THE LAND 
 
 OF THE 
 
 SPH 
 
 ?^t«lS 
 
 
 ' '; ',i 
 
 . MONTBARD
 
 \y \^
 
 THE LAND 
 
 OF 
 
 THE SPHINX
 
 G. MONTBAR^D 
 
 THE LAND 
 
 
 THE SPHINX 
 
 IVITH OXE HUNDRED AXD EIGHTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIOXS 
 BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD, & COMPANY 
 
 1S94
 

 
 PEE FACE. 
 
 TTTHE NEVER a biped's bile gets beyond control and his gall- 
 pouch overflows, or his too-excited vital spirits fly tumult- 
 uously to his brain, banging against the walls of his cranium, 
 riotously cavalcadiug amidst the winding coils of his encephalon, he 
 feels the necessity of discharging this bile, forerunner of jaundice ; 
 of emptying the gall-pouch that is corroding his tissues and souring 
 his temper ; of opening a safety-valve for the vapour of his seething 
 brain, and freeing it of all dross. The manifestation of this intel- 
 lectual epuratiou is to be found in the tangible form of a book, 
 an exudatory by means of which the patient displays, either diluted 
 or condensed, in an indefinite number of pages, the morbid state of 
 his brain, beset by the relentless irritation of acrid, pernicious, and 
 abundant secretions. The invalid is saved, but the unfortunate 
 public who receive the deleterious shower are attacked : they catch 
 the disease ; the bacilli develop a million-fold in the fungus of 
 imagination, stubbornly pursuing their detestable work, and the 
 epidemic rages everywhere. I have been bitten by the terrible 
 animalcule, and in my turn I save myself by an emission of my 
 bile! 
 
 When acting thus one is so thoroughly conscious of committing 
 an aggressive action against society, of being a disturber of human
 
 yj TEEFACE. 
 
 stupidity, that one instinctively feels, unless one is absolutely per- 
 verted, the necessity of excusing one's self, of uttering one's mea 
 culpa in the form of a very anodyne and extremely sweet preface, 
 which the public, that old blase, as artful as a Ked Indian, never 
 reads ! I have too much respect for routine not to steal a march 
 upon readers whilst performing my little act of sly contrition— and 
 the public would not be the public if it departed from its laudable 
 habit of skipping the hypocritical preface. 
 
 Well, I was at Marseilles, and already the symptoms of the 
 
 malady, the paroxysm of which was to produce the lucubration 
 
 occasioning this preface, were showing themselves with vigorous 
 
 intensity : my gall was fermenting like a vat of new wine ; the 
 
 impetuous ebb and flow of rebellious bile and uncontrollable blood 
 
 rose and fell at their own sweet will ! My disease was at its 
 
 height. One day I was sadly sauntering in the shade of the trees 
 
 of the Cours Belzuuce, digesting with difficulty an indefinable 
 
 bouillabaisse. After a while I stopped to listen to a quack who 
 
 was making a remarkable speech in the midst of the silence of a 
 
 gaping crowd. Amongst other marvellous cures performed by this 
 
 learned disciple of ^sculapius, and related by him, there was one 
 
 which particularly struck me, owing to its prodigious originality. 
 
 In narrating this incredible event I cannot do better than textually 
 
 quote that portion of the eminent doctor's oration, of which I 
 
 scrupulously noted the terms ; so here it is : — 
 
 " In Africa, I was at Cairo, when they brought me a yonng 
 girl who, fifteen years before, had fallen asleep on the banks of 
 the Nile ; a little crocodile had crawled into her mouth, then into 
 her stomach, and finally into her intestines, where, ever since, it 
 had been causing the most frightful agony. What did I do ? 
 Gentlemen, I had this young person laid on her back, I rubbed 
 her well with my balm, and at that very instant the whole body
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 oponed to the extent of three feet, and those present beheld, 
 with as much awe as admiration, a monstrous crocodile issue from 
 the body of that unfortunate young person. Gentlemen, in assuring 
 you that it was fifteen feet long, and as big as a yearling pig, I 
 am guilty of no exaggeration." 
 
 This was a revelation. These words produced a deep and in- 
 effaceable impression on me, and settled the choice of the locality 
 where the phases of my malady should develop, the frame wherein 
 I would present the fruit of my labours to the puldic. From that 
 moment I was dying to see the country where the crocodiles, by an 
 inevitable law of atavism, take board and lodging in the bodies 
 of the inhabitants, and grow and fatten there as did formerly the 
 gods in the bodies of the sacred animals, and then clear out witli 
 such amazing facility I 
 
 I started for Egypt. 
 
 Since then I have overrun the valley of the Nile ; I here 
 describe its strange and varied aspects, dwelling complaisantly 
 upon the present, plunging occasionally into the sombre recesses 
 of the past, in order to stir up its venerable cumulations and bring 
 to the surface a few amusing bubbles, with the mufiied echoes of 
 vanished times I 
 
 Having travelled a great deal, and read numbers of historians, 
 modern ones especially, I have acquired an incontestable skill in 
 the art of relating fables, of distorting facts, and of arranging them 
 to suit the exigencies of my mood or the requirements of the moment 
 — the reader will easily perceive this. 
 
 I have added a few thousand years to the vertiginous number 
 of centuries so generously accorded to Egypt, thereby following in 
 the wake of her ancient and venerable priests, those circumspect 
 gossips, as cunning as the cleverest of quacks, who told such yarns 
 to the credulous Greeks who came to interview them.
 
 Viii PREFACE. 
 
 I have admired the beanty and proportions of the lineaments of 
 the Sphinx, that monster which possesses nothing remarkable but 
 its size, less to render homage to truth than from deference to 
 the strange enthusiasm of its irrepressible admirers. For the same 
 reason I have enlarged upon the praise awarded to the temple 
 of this same Sphinx, a sort of slightly rough-hewn cavern of 
 troglodytes, 
 
 I have stood enraptured in the presence of the imposing masses 
 of the Pyramids, Cheops especially, the cuneiform character of which 
 makes it, by right, the grandest thing in Egypt— because one is 
 expected to be suffocated with admiration before those "■ barbarisms 
 in hewn stone." 
 
 I have described the elegant profile of the obelisks, those stupid 
 big landmarks, those pales of Titans. 
 
 I have noted without a smile the " robust delicacy " of the 
 temples of the valley of the Nile, the genius of their architects, 
 the prodigious art which presided at their erection, while I felt 
 convinced that this debauchery of limestone congestions and piling 
 up, on a large scale, of heavy and unsightly edifices proved absolutely 
 nothing in favour of the art or the genius of their pretentious 
 architects. On the contrary I 
 
 The glaring ornamentation of the tombs of the Valley of Kings, 
 a description of twopenny coloured pictures on stucco fixed to miles 
 of walls, did not please me ; and the bats which swarm in those 
 funereal tunnels annoyed me immensely. Nevertheless I did not 
 fail to " tremble beneath the breath of memories of the past," with 
 a few romantic Cookites who had poked themselves m there, and 
 who, in spite of their respectable emotion, were extremely anxious 
 to get out again. 
 
 I have not missed bestowing the epithet " sublime " upon those 
 stiff and gigantic statues of gods, which are in magnitude what a
 
 PEEFACE. 3X 
 
 Chinese magot is in exignitv. I have showered praise on the isle 
 of Phila?, that pearl of Egypt, which, after all, excepting the 
 hypathral temple with its three meagre palm trees, is only a mass of 
 rnbbish scorched by the sun, of gutted temples and fallen columns. 
 The cataract, that grandiose result of the freak of an angry god, 
 recalled to my mind Shakespeare's i)lay. Much Ado about Nothing ! 
 
 The burlesques of the incoherent theogony of Egypt, its ridiculous 
 menagerie, reminded me of the inmates of the Zoological Gardens 
 and the masquerades of Mid-Lent, but in no wise predisposed me 
 to believe, like a great Egyptologist, that " at the summit of the 
 Egyptian Pantheon towers a unique, immortal, uncreate, and 
 invisible god hidden in the inaccessible recesses of being " ; for, if 
 anything does tower there, it can only be the memory of the 
 immense and cruel madness of those who conceived the laughable 
 silhouettes of this fantastic Olympus, audaciously casting as food 
 to the imbecile imagination of ignorant mankind those headless and 
 tailless myths, which so long misled bewildered humanity in its 
 search after truth. 
 
 I have generously alluded to the wisdom of the "most grateful 
 of all men," but regretted tliat, instead of bequeathing us indirectly 
 that famous wisdom from which we are now seeking to be freed, 
 they did not preserve it for their own private use ; this would no 
 doubt have suited them remarkably well, and us even better I 
 
 I have extolled the Nile, boasted of the " limpidity " of its muddy 
 waters swarming with insects and fucus, and the "variety" which 
 occurs in the dispiriting uniformity of its banks, where from time 
 to time are washed up the swollen carcass of a Soudanese negro, 
 an Arab, or a camel covered with bluish sores. Cook the Great, 
 the Tourists' Cook, the Circular Cook, that enterprising manager of 
 universal locomotion, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Prince of the 
 Nile River and its intelligent sliowman, would never have forgiven
 
 X PKEFACE. 
 
 me for inconsiderately attacking its fluvial fame, and disturbing 
 the flow of his Pactolus I 
 
 To bathe in its waters is, it appears, the most agreeable of 
 pleasures. I speak from hearsay, never having done so myself, for 
 fear that a facetious and greedy monster might have played me 
 the same trick as the one which was so fatal to Osiris and made 
 Isis for ever inconsolable. 
 
 I found Nile water a delicious beverage ; and when one remembers 
 that the Princesses of the blood of the Ptolemies, wedded to 
 foreigners, had it sent them to far-off countries, I should be very 
 much looked down upon were I to state here that the water is 
 brackish, that it produces pimples on the skin, especially during 
 the first days of flood, and that the ancient Egyptians never drank 
 it unmixed. 
 
 The Xile without crocodiles would not be the Nile ; so, to avoid 
 being accused of having confused this divine river with some 
 €ommon stream, as a certain general did the Seine with the Marne, 
 I have mentioned crocodiles. In fact, I saw — one ! as big as a 
 lizard, and hanging to a string held by an Arab, who wished to 
 sell it to me for twenty piastres. I had the tact to refuse, not 
 wishing to deprive the great river of the only crocodile it possessed 
 from Cairo to the first cataract; and from a certain fear too lest, 
 yielding to the temptation of leading it away with me by a string, 
 Typhon, finding himself insufficiently housed in that narrow cara- 
 pace, should seek to change his residence and take up his abode 
 in my far more ample person ; the gods are so capricious and so 
 fond of comfort I 
 
 Dreading extremely to be despised by Orientalists orientalising, 
 I stood enraptured in presence of the worm-eaten marvels of 
 unstable equilibrium of Arabian art ; at the pleasing imagination 
 displayed in its geometrical interlacings, at the surprises of its
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 arabesques, and at the grace of its ornamentation — not daring to own 
 that these edifices resemble wedding-cakes, the interlacing pattern a 
 tangled caligraphy, and the ornamentation is the gaudiest of daubs. 
 
 I have commended the picturesque appearance of an Arab's rags, 
 swarming with vermin ; the purity of the atmosphere of the 
 bazaars, reeking with the smell of burnt incense, rose-water, and 
 the dung of asses and dromedaries, combined with the unsavoury 
 efliuvia of all kinds of commodities piled up in stalls a few feet 
 square, and with the penetrating goatish odour of the fellaheen. 
 
 I have pitied these last, because every one pities them, especially 
 those amiable philanthropists who, in Egypt, diligently tickle their 
 backs with the courbash. 
 
 I would not criticise the gait of the worthy asses of Cairo, 
 those cabs of the East, but yet I cannot deny the fact that 
 after half an hour's ride one's person feels extremely sore ; and 
 lucky is the rider who has not been thrown, once or several times, 
 by a jerk of the back, as sudden as unexpected, which is quite 
 peculiar to these steeds. 
 
 The camels, which we leave unnoticed at home, interest us 
 enormously so soon as we set foot in the East ; so I have paid the 
 tribute of admiration due to the ship of the desert, with its double 
 motion of pitching and rolling, which, when you are seated on its 
 hump, gives you a similar feeling to that which you experience 
 on the deck of the Dover and Calais steamer, when your stomach 
 is not quite as it should be. 
 
 In order not to alarm the interesting idlers, the well-to-do people 
 plunged in the delights of the Luxor Hotel, that Capua of Upper 
 Egypt, I have exaggerated the salubrity of this land of — sun- 
 stroke, dysentery, ophthalmia, intermittent fever, bubos, frightful 
 hypertrojihy, and tuberculous leprosy ; this land infested with 
 reptiles, scorj)ions, flies, and mosquitoes.
 
 Xii PREFACE. 
 
 Fearing to turu away from the journey persons with delicate 
 tympanums and civilised ears, I have been silent respecting the 
 eternal and excruciating grinding sound of the sakiehs, the shrill 
 complaints of the rebecks, the monotonous hum of the daraboukas, 
 the piercing and snuflaing voices of Arab virtuosi, the prolonged 
 and discordant bellowing of the trombones of their orchestras, the 
 unbearable cacophony of the Khedive's band. 
 
 I would not deprive Gerome of his illusions by declaring that 
 the Almehs sheltered at Esneh are now frightful jades, old and 
 ugly, wearing boots down at heel and a kind of flowered dressing- 
 gown of glaring colour, who fuddle themselves with vermouth ; or 
 bv tellino- him that the sword-dance and the dance of the wasp 
 are now no more than a bad and very repugnant cancan, which 
 takes place on the beaten earth floor of a noxious hovel, lighted 
 by a candle stuck in the neck of an empty bottle placed on a 
 rickety deal table. It is even much against my wish that I am 
 obliged to state that no Arab with the least claim to respectability 
 ever sets foot in these low filthy taverns, and that they are only 
 frequented by a few soft-brained tourists taken there by smart 
 dragomans, who are on the best of terms with the " friends of 
 these ladies." 
 
 I must admit, alas ! in spite of all my respect for our venerable 
 ancestress, that the whole of the vaunted wisdom of Egypt is 
 resumed at the present day in the immodest acrobatic performances 
 of Karagueuz, her science in the juggleries of her Psylli, her religion 
 in the epileptic convulsions of impure santons, the waltzing of a 
 band of dancing dervishes and the hideous distortions of their 
 howling companions. Her imposing ceremonies of by-gone times 
 have given way to the feast of the Return of the Carpet, a pretext 
 for a priest drunk with hasheesh to trample under his horse's 
 hoofs the fanatic faithful ; and to the bloody anniversary of the
 
 PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 death of Hussein and Hassan, when another variety of bigots take 
 delight in hacking themselves and transpiercing their cheeks, to 
 the accompaniment of most horrible yells. 
 
 I have treated tourists in general, and English tourists in 
 particular, rather badly, because it is understood that an English 
 tourist, who, in reality, is very well-behaved and much less 
 annoying than others, should be nevertheless described as a most 
 disagreeable person. It is true that I cpiite lost my temper with 
 a fellow-countryman who persistently bawled out at the top of his 
 voice some music-hall choruses in the hypogeum of Thebes ; and 
 that I saw a German coolly break and carry off some bits of the 
 Beni-Hassan mouldings as though they had merely been pieces of 
 common work ; and if some very curious specimens of painting on 
 stucco, at the temple of Abydos, did not disappear into the secret 
 receptacles of this same Teuton, it was owing to the energetic 
 intervention of English tourists, indignant at an act of vandalism 
 as barefaced as it was barbaric.
 
 TO THE EEADEE. 
 
 fJ^JfE most salient feature of that which 'precedes, and of that which 
 is about to follow, will he the evident discursiveness tvhich jjre- 
 tails from one end to the other : it ivould he no mistake to behold 
 in this the faithful likeness of the state of my mind, the immediate 
 consequence of that of our crazy century, consumed hy a colossal and 
 incurable athumia. It will be observed that I have often icandered 
 away from my subject ; this has happened to me each time the sid)ject 
 annoyed me, and I returned to it so soon as the digressions, ichich 
 had led me astray, themselves commenced to bother me, a practice due 
 to the habit of playiiiy truant acquired in my school-boy days ! 
 
 An absurd and precocious liking for noise, changing in course of 
 time to an intemperate taste for the big drum, whose mighty rolls 
 procured me indescribable delight, has clung to me in my mature age 
 and exercised regrettable influence on my literary style. Hence the 
 sonorous rumbling of some of my periods, as ew.pty as the insides 
 of those jcorthy asses' skins, the delight of my childhood, the favourites 
 of my youth ! 
 
 I have indulged, in many Latin quotations, not for the purpose of 
 laying clfiim to an erudition I do not possess, hut from a mere instinct 
 of the barbarian fascinated by the unknown, and an irresistible 
 attraction for the mysterious, an invincible 'propensity for uttering 
 enigmatical words .' I must have had some sjyeakers of oracles or 
 Pythonesses among my ajictstors. I am obliged, however, to admit
 
 Xvi TO THE EEADEE. 
 
 that I understand the meaning of some of m>j quotations, those ivhich I 
 learnt by heart at college, but 1 must own that they please me infinitely 
 less than the others, the meaning of which escapes me; for me they have 
 no longer the attraction of forbidden fruit ; they are, as to Eve after 
 the apple, without the relish of a taste of risk. 
 
 Every time that I could, I have disguised truth ivith a veil. It 
 smacks too much of a fable, truth stark naked issuing from a well, 
 of all places in the loorld. To begin with, it is indecent, and besides 
 it gives one the shivers. The Athenians, those loitty icags, the ingenious 
 inventors of this piquant allegory, but rarely brought her out of her 
 humid dwelling, preferring to let her cool her heels there, icith quite 
 Hellenic discourtesy and absolute loant of gallantry. The Greeks 
 were right, and it is not I who would give her a hand to help her to 
 come up, as I consider it very ill-bred to let people know tchat you 
 think of them, and extremely disagreeable to be told the truth about 
 oneself. 
 
 I have quoted, according to circumstances, all the well-known 
 yarns — those inoffensive old stereotypes which lulled us to sleep in 
 our infancy with their stately and, monotonous lullaby ; and, out of 
 love for the jncturesque, I have respected the legend of Cleopatra 
 stung by an asp, instead of displaying the bad taste of stating, on 
 the authority of Baron Larrey, of the French Academy, that the 
 seductive heroine put an end to her existence by means of a bushel 
 of charcoal, just like a simple Parisian grisette. 
 
 Through an excess of modesty, lohich tcill be readily appreciated, 
 I have rarely believed what I have written, considering it most 
 reprehensible to have too much confidence in oneself. It icould, in- 
 deed, be too great impertinence if, when passing our existence in 
 conjuring up the icildest illusions, in revelling in the most deceptive 
 chimeras, we carried our simplicity so far as to believe in those 
 illusio)is, our ingenuousness to the point of giving a body to those
 
 TO THE KE-U)ER. XVll 
 
 chimeras, our stupidity to the extent of becoming ourselves dupes of 
 the artifices of our undisciplined minds, and if to cap all, ice 
 had the singularhj overweening pretension of imposing our belief 
 en others. 
 
 I have been rather lavish icith card, the spice of inodern 
 literature, more anxious in its Byzantine refinement suitably to 
 chisel out phrases, tastefully to encrust carefully selected words upon 
 them, and to listen rapturously to the music of an empty and. dis- 
 creetly sonorous prose, than to find lodging for an idea in this 
 dazzling palace of verbiage. 
 
 Amongst other faults which I possess, and ichich I will not 
 mention here, lulling myself with the sweet illusion that they will 
 perhaps escape the perspicacity of the reader, is that of being 
 extremely talkative. This is unfortunately a propensity of which 1 
 have never tried and never wished to free myself ; and one which, 
 by long dwelling with me, tolerated at first, indispensable afterwards, 
 has ended by making itself quite at home with me for good, and by 
 becoming altogether part of the household. I beg the reader to show 
 for this untoward habit some of the indulgence I have displayed 
 towards him, without, however, icishing that the ugly xveed should 
 acclimatise itself with him as it has done tcith me, where the 
 soil was perhaps more suitable for its self-cultivation ! 
 
 COXCEENIXG THE ILLUSTEATIONS. 
 
 WJien expressions have failed me for withdrawing becomingly 
 
 from the inextricable tangle of my ideas, I have had recourse to 
 
 drawing: hence the number of 'pictures which bedizen this booh, 
 
 and which are deserving of just the same amount of confidence as 
 
 the text, the pencil having only accentuated and finished the 
 
 fantastic vagaries of the pen. 
 
 b
 
 A GEEETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT, THE 
 GRANDMOTHER OF NATIONS. 
 
 /^ EGYPT, "Gift of the Nile!" Land of Osiris! TIiou Laud 
 ^^ of Pharaohs and fellaheen, of the courbash and baksheesh, 
 of the lotus and papyrus, of beetles and crocodiles, of the Book of 
 the Dead and mausoleums, of ophthalmia and elephantiasis I Sacred 
 charnel-house! Holy valley of everlasting tears and regrets! 
 Venerable Egypt, who restest slumbering in thy innumerable 
 mummies, iu the gigantic void of thy colossal and useless edifices, 
 in the undecipherable secret of thy hieroglyphics, — I salute thee ! 
 
 Glory to thee ! mysterious Ancestress of the world ; indefatigable 
 Seeker after sublime nonsense ; questioning death to understand life ; 
 elaborating, whilst meditating amidst thy deserts during thousands 
 of centuries, the elements of the human idea ; a laborious parturition 
 which cost thee thy existence, and bestowed on us that superb 
 civilisation of which we, thy sickly grand-nephews, are dying, 
 incapable of bearing the strength of its powerful effluvia !
 
 XX A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. 
 
 Glory to thee I mother of justice, kying down with Thoth, in 
 the hermetic Looks, the bases of science, that vertiginous accumu- 
 hxtion of hypotheses ; the A B C of wisdom, that of law and con- 
 ventional civility in nations ; the principles of justice, "that sovereign 
 extravagance, that generous imbecility." 
 
 Glory to thee I generative mother of the gods, insane with genius, 
 whose i^henomenal brain invented that mournful and picturesque 
 fancy of the rite of tlie judgment of the dead ; audacious mystical 
 lore, establishing at the same time the profound principle of palin- 
 genesis and the unfathomable stupidity of the human race ; giving 
 hirth to the dogma of metensomatosis, and to that monstrous and 
 enormous jDautheon, an insoluble enigma, so irritating to the anxious 
 and unhealthy curiosity of our declining century, feverishly tracing 
 all back to its origin, bent upon the impossible reconstruction of 
 an uncertain past. 
 
 Glory to thee ! who, for the greater jubilation of inept tourists, 
 lost in amazement in the presence of thy stifF-limbed idols, didst carve 
 the strange images of thy apocalyptic divinities in the granite 
 and the limestone of thy mountains ; bestrewing thy plains with the 
 temples of Titans, chiselling on their massive sides thy interminable 
 hieroglyphics ; erecting with perfect art and prodigious science thy 
 hermetic obelisks, thy fantastic pyramids, thy marvellous sphinx, 
 thy labyrinth, that stupendous feat of thy architects ; digging out 
 of the Arabian and Libyan rocks those gloomy recesses, those 
 funereal hypogeums with their walls illuminated like the leaves of an 
 old missal of the middle ages ; shedding with unheard-of jirofusion 
 that infinite multitude of tiresome mastabas ; executing with in- 
 conceivable sagacity and surprising skill more gigantic works 
 than now, after five thousand years, we take in hand timidly and 
 complete with effort ! 
 
 Glory to thee, illustrious vanquished I For a Power that is
 
 A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. XXI 
 
 mightier has mastered thee, thee the dread subduer ! It has 
 destroyed thy celestial menagerie, strangled thy gods, dispersed their 
 Theraj^entje I 
 
 May they rest in peace in Amenti, to the Occident, beyond the 
 lake of Osiris ; thy sacred animals, those homes of the souls of 
 thy divinities, those hairy, feathery, or scaly personifications of 
 the attributes of the primordial might, of the sole uncreated god, 
 begetting and bringing forth himself in infinite space ! 
 
 Gloria victis ! Glory to you ! holy and revered beasts, habitations 
 of the gods ! 
 
 Enviable cow, who concealeth in thy broad flanks the soul of 
 Isis-Athor, the gloomy Venus, with the pale golden skin, the pure 
 oval face, the straight profile, the long velvety eyes ; ardent and in- 
 consolable spouse of Osiris ; unknown and impenetrable, mother and 
 substance of that which is, mysterious source of all things I 
 
 Goose of the Nile, within whom resides Seb, the layer of the 
 ^g% of the world, the matter containing the germs of life ; husband 
 of Nout, father of Ea I 
 
 Scarabfeus, ornament of the brow ; lion with the luminous hide, 
 who art the habitation of the cabiric Phtah, of the demiuro^e, the 
 lord of wisdom, the light which accomjjlishes all things I 
 
 Black ibis of Ethiopia and cynocephalus with the azure rump, 
 ye. the two habitations of Thoth Trismegistus, the hierogrammatist, 
 the speaking column, the living verb, the guide of souls, showman 
 of the shades, prince of undertakers ! 
 
 Serpent coiled about thyself, who containest the "absolute," the 
 divine breath, and Knouphis the androgynus, who himself fabricates 
 the generative mother of the gods I 
 
 Jackal with the sharp muzzle, temporary lodging of Anubis, 
 latrant, guardian of tombs, watcher of mummies ! 
 
 Bennou, with the gold and crimson plumage, friend of Osiris,
 
 Xxii A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. 
 
 the god of Abydos, the lord of Ameuti, the uoctiirual suu, the g-ood 
 intent, for ever fructifying Isis ! 
 
 Lumbering hippopotamus, habitation of Set, the spirit of evil, the 
 enemy of Osiris ! 
 
 Sacred hawk with the lightning wing, emblem of the solar 
 gods, of the sun in his radiant course of Ra, erect amidst his 
 crew of Akhimou-Ordou and Akhimou-Sekou, with a Hor at the 
 helm and a Hor at the prow, in the sacred boat which roams, 
 enveloped in the coils of the serpent Mehen, upon the celestial 
 Ouer-ness I 
 
 Great tawny vulture, symbol of maternity, dedicated to Mauth, 
 the mother-goddess, in whose womb was self-conceived Ammon-Ra, 
 the bull, the generating principle above all, to whom the ram and 
 the cerastes are consecrated ! 
 
 Cat and lioness of Sacht-the-Great, the cherished friend of Phtah, 
 the creative and dissolving power, she who purifies and she who 
 punishes ! 
 
 Famous Apis of Memphis, born of a celestial ray ! Mnevis of 
 Heliopolis, with the black and bristling hair ! Onuphis of Her- 
 monthis, the good genius ! Peaceful and preposterous receptacles 
 of divine incarnations ! 
 
 Winged Uraeus, with the venom-swollen throat, who circlest the 
 heads of gods and kings, terrible symbol of their inexorable 
 sovereignty ! 
 
 And ye : lascivious goat of Mendes ! Wolf of Syout ! Ichneumon 
 of Heracleopolis ! Crocodile of the Arsinoit nome I Owl of Saiis ! 
 Falcon and shrew of Butos I Mouse and dove of Isis ! 
 
 Ye, sacred fishes : seal, eel, carp, phallivorous oxyrinx, honoured 
 throughout Egypt ! 
 
 Ye, garlic and onion, respectable vegetables, by whom the people 
 swore !
 
 A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. XXIU 
 
 Thon, palm tree almost human, all tremulous with love, who 
 moanest at touch of the knife I Acacia, whose trunk secreted 
 Osiris I Persa?a of Isis, the guardian of hearts ! 
 
 Your reign is for ever at an end, fantastic medley of beasts, 
 trees, plants, vegetables, incongruous types of a complicated theogony ; 
 disjoined links of the most admirable web of extravagant mystifica- 
 tions the human mind ever conceived I 
 
 Grave and solemn throng of priests, with shaven heads and eye- 
 brows, with long garments made of flax, cease your hyssop-scented 
 lustrations ; your gods are dead ! the boat of Isis has cajjsized I 
 
 Dreaded prophets, bespangled with collars of gold, laden with 
 charms, you will never again consult the entrails of the victims, 
 or study the course of the planets, to learn and jjredict the 
 future I 
 
 Hierostolites, you will no longer deck the images of the gods I 
 
 Learned Arpedonaptes, pluck off the plumes which adorn your 
 heads ; the ink of your canon is dried up, your calamus is broken ; 
 you will no more carry your sacred tablets covered with hieroglyphics ; 
 you will no more indite your funereal rituals I 
 
 Horoscopists, cast away your hour-glasses and your palms ; yon 
 will never again draw conclusions from the movements of the sacred 
 beasts I 
 
 Hieropsaltes, no more will you chant the hymns of the gods 
 and the rules of life for kings, taught of Hermes, while accompanying 
 yourselves on golden sistra ! 
 
 Sphragistes, you will no more place your seal on the victim 
 destined to the sacrifice I 
 
 Pastophores, guardians of the temples, you will no more bear 
 the baris of Isis, or the beds, or the utensils of assistance ! 
 
 Melanephores, the black veil of Isis is rent ; you will place it 
 no more on your shoulders I
 
 Xxiv A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. 
 
 Comastes, you will no more preside at the banquets on fete 
 
 days ! 
 
 Neophores and Zacores, you will no more have to watch over 
 the objects of worship— there is no more worship ! 
 
 Undertakers, your ministry is useless ! 
 
 Designator, thou wilt no longer mark on the left side of the 
 dead the piece of flesh that must be removed ! 
 
 Operator, thou wilt no longer use thy Ethiopian stone to make 
 the incision indicated by thy colleague, and thou wilt no more have 
 to fly amidst the curses of the crowd, pursued by the stones of the 
 bystanders ! 
 
 Embalmers, leave there the natron, the palm wine, the cedar 
 gum, the myrrh, the cinnamon, and the perfumes of all sorts with 
 which you anoint the dead, the bandages you wind round them, the 
 brushes and colours that serve to adorn their coffins. Your part is 
 played ; Anubis is no more. We no longer make mummies ; we 
 render to the eartli what belongs to the earth I 
 
 And you, inhabitants of both Egypts, you will eat no more 
 honey or figs on the day of the feast of Thoth ; you will no longer 
 celebrate, in the month of Pao-phi, the feasts of the pregnancy of 
 Isis and of the stick of the sun ; in that of Athyr, that of the loss 
 of Osiris ; at the solstice of winter, anniversary of the birth of 
 Harpocrates, you will no more give the first-fruits of your gardens, 
 and you will no more lead a cow seven times in succession round 
 the temple, in honour of the search for Osiris ; in the month of 
 Tybi, in memory of the return of Isis from Phenicia, you will no 
 longer ofier her cakes, bearing the figure of a hippopotamus in 
 chains, symbol of Typhon vanquished by Isis and Horus ; no more 
 will you celebrate, on the first day of Phamenoth, the entrance of 
 Osiris into the moon ; and, at the Pamylies, you will no longer 
 carry the representation of the triple phallus, in honour of the
 
 A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. XXV 
 
 delivery of Isis ; in Pharmnti you will not weep over bundles of 
 corn while invoking Isis ; in Payni you will not attend the sacrifices 
 with cakes bearing the effigy of a bound ass, telling each other 
 " not to give food to the ass," " not to wear golden rings " ; on 
 the 12th of the same month, the day of the feast of the inunda- 
 tion, you will no more offer the Nile his magnificently adorned 
 bride ; the tear of Isis, the solitary droj) of dew, which purifies 
 and drives away all corruption, will not fall on that night, or ever 
 again, for the eyes of Isis are closed for evermore ! No longer, on 
 the 30th of Epiphi, will there be the feast of the eyes of Horns ; 
 and no more, on the last day of the year, in Messori, will you 
 present the first vegetables to Harpamtes ! 
 
 The time for feasts is over ! The era of prolonged mourning 
 commences. 
 
 And you, redoubtable and resplendent Pharaohs, with the pschent 
 surmounted by the threatening Urffius, your protracted slumber has 
 been disturbed; they have uncovered you, as quarrymen at times 
 disclose by a blow of the pickaxe some belated toad, who has 
 remained a prisoner lor a couple of centuries in his cell of hard 
 stone. They have violated the secret of your sepulchres ! 
 
 Your mounds of blocks of stone, the mystery of your hypogeums, 
 the silence of your hieroglyphs, have not defended your royal 
 remains against the avidity of the conquerors of the Nile valley, 
 the disrespectful and indiscreet curiosity of learned Europe. They 
 have discovered the obstructed or walled-up entrances to your last 
 dwelling-places, penetrated within your mortuary chambers, raised 
 the heavy covers of your basalt or porphyry sarcophagi, burst 
 open your cedar or sycamore coffins, four within one another, torn 
 the masks from your mummies, plucked off their ornaments ; 
 profane hands have untied the bandages which imprisoned your 
 stifiened limbs !
 
 XXVI A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. 
 
 The lynx eyes of Egyptologists have found the key to your 
 mysterious hieroglyphs and translated the long rolls of prayers of 
 your papyrus ! 
 
 Grave men examine you with the magnifying glass, analyse 
 parts of your sacred personalities ; they measure your facial angle, 
 the length of your nasal organ, the form of your skull ; they 
 discuss your authenticity between a pinch of snuff and a cigarette; 
 they send your mummies about in a most irreverential way ; the 
 distrustful custom-house rummages in the cases containing them, 
 as they pass, in fear lest the remains of Rameses or Sesostris, 
 forwarded carriage paid, should serve as a pretext for smuggling 
 in a quart of brandy or a box of regalias ! Cook or Barnum 
 exhibits you at reduced prices to the snobs of Great Britain, the 
 idlers of Paris, the Yankees of the Xew TTorld, the idiots of all 
 countries ! You are simjjly an object of curiosity and commerce ; 
 money is made by retailing you to tourists, colours by subjecting 
 your swaddled-up limbs to chemical treatment. And the great 
 tramplers of people under foot, they who occupied so much room 
 in the world, now held within a modest little zinc tube, ticketed 
 " Mummies' Blacks," have for sarcophagus the colour-box of a 
 mocking canvas-dauber, and serve to sketch out some mad con- 
 ceptions of the studio. 
 
 Your bodies exhibited in the glass cases of our museums serve 
 to astonish nursemaids and Tommy Atkins ; it is a thing, a 
 curio, a souvenir of Egypt ! People place one of your hands, a 
 middle finger, or your great toe on a row of shelves between 
 a Chinese magot and a Japanese vase! 
 
 You are old furniture, numbered, classed, very well catalogued, 
 frightfully messed about by the descendants of those same Tamahou 
 with white skins, blue eyes, our ancestors, represented six thousand 
 years ago by your scribes on the walls of your palaces, with arms
 
 A GREETING TO GOOD OLD EGYPT. XXVI 
 
 bound; heads laid beneath the heel of the Pharaohs, who were the 
 great conciilcators of nations. . . . Sic transit gloria mundi ! 
 
 The fanatic Theophilus has cast down the tottering edifice of 
 your worn-out Pantheon : the rotten statue, full of rats, of Serapis, 
 the last incarnation of Osiris, outcome of the supreme convulsion of 
 your agonising worship, has been broken by blows of the hatchet 
 by a legionary of Theodosius ; its remains, set on fire, flamed 
 amidst the hooting of the Nazarenes, and even, alas ! amidst the 
 bitter sarcasms of its worshij^pers, exasperated at the complete 
 inability of their god to defend itself! 
 
 Thy gods are dead. Dolorosa mater ! Poor Egypt ! congealed 
 in thy hieratic majesty : eagles mute on the shoulders of thy 
 colossi, which are cracking ; vultures repose on the ruptured sum- 
 mits of thy monuments ; the screech-owl lodges in the cornerless 
 capitals of thy temples ; the jackal prowls by night among the 
 shattered columns of thy hyjsostyle halls ; the hideous horned snake 
 crawls beneath the ruins of thy fallen pylons ; the colossi of 
 Memnon, son of the Aurora, no more address their hymns to the 
 rising sun ; thy masterpieces are disappearing in crumbs in the 
 pockets of tourists ; thy uprooted obelisks are transplanted to all 
 the capitals of the world. Thy grand monuments, which marked 
 the stages of thy prodigious civilisation, disappear little by little, 
 buried beneath the desert sand — a moving winding-sheet, which 
 slowly spreads itself over thy past glories ! 
 
 I)e prqfandis ! Old Egypt has passed into the shadow of death.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 En route. — Corsica. — Cook and Son's living parcels. — Those rogues of note-books. — 
 Secret warfare between the Cookitesand the unlabelled.^The authentic Baronet. 
 — International confusion. — Where the reader makes the acquaintance of Jacques 
 and his friend Onesime Coquillard. — A jivopos of frontiers. — The consequence of 
 having studied geography in France. — Departure. — What Jacques, followed by 
 Onesime, wished to see in Egypt. — Onesime. — Gaiety in the forecastle ; frightful 
 dulness at the stern 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The silhouette of EeptiUus. — Where it is seen that Jacques has a spite against the 
 Germans and a grain of ill-temper against the Italians. — Outburst of ultra- 
 patriotism on his part, complicated by excessive socialism. — Exhibition of 
 principles. — Dismay of Onesime ; his horror of the cataclysm . . . .16 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 The island of Elba. — Monte Cristo. — Caprera. — Jacques and Onesime conquer the 
 hearts of the sailors of the Said. — Naples. — More about the intimate and personal 
 emotions of the Cookites. — The deck is invaded. — A study of muscles. — Native 
 concerts. — The stenches of Naples. — Italy sells her family souvenirs.— Stromboli. 
 — Charybdis and Scylla. — Mount Etna.— Onesime becomes gloomy. — "Us" at 
 the piano; prodigious success. — Friendly and saltatory jollification. — General 
 reconciliation ; gaiety everywhere. — Sunset. — Alexandria ! .31 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 General hustle. — They land. — Onesime, a Count in spite of himself, and Jacques, 
 very much puzzled, are conducted to the hotel.— Double explanation. — Jacques 
 is convinced of the excellent quality of Nile water. — They make the acquaintance 
 of Doctor Alan Keradec. — Satisfaction, disappointment, and anger of Reptilius. 
 — Rough sketch of history. — Jacques makes an error in a page and " Us " in a 
 volume. — Two erudites fall out. — Onesime is devoured by mosquitoes . . .10 
 
 xxix
 
 XXX CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER Y 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Onesime's despair.— A turn in the city. — The Consuls' Square. — Jacques is dazzled ; 
 Onesime is surprised at it. — Through the Arab town.^ — The island of Pharos and 
 its old lighthouse. — Onesime's distress. — He has had enough of this steeplechase. 
 — Alexandrian society. — Characters in the streets. — A few words about ancient 
 Alexandria. — The Faubourg of Karmous. — Picturesque misery. — Pompey's Pillar. 
 — Alan K^radec and Jacques find Onesime at the Cafe Rossini . . . .61 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 The Grand Port. — Alan Keradec invokes the past. — Onesime's virtuous indignation. 
 — What he thinks of Cleopatra and her Needles. — Nocturnal run through 
 Alexandria. — A trip to Piamleh. — Onesime and his donkey. — Across the fields. — 
 The Mahmoudieh Canal promenade. — Its gardens. — The canal banks. — Keradec, 
 Jacques, and Onesime take tickets for Cairo 8i 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 Desert sand in the carriage. — Lake Mareotis. — The Delta country. — Kafr-Dawr. — 
 Baksheesh. — Damanhour. — Tcl-el-Barout. — Kafr-el-Zaiat. — Tantah. — The car- 
 riage is invaded. — Onesime's sufEei-ing and regret. — Benha-'l-Assal. — The travellers 
 breathe a little. — Touck. — The Pyramids! — The Mokattam.— Khalioub. — Cairo. 
 — The arrival. — A turn in the Esbekieh. — Onesime imagines himself in Paris. — 
 The crocodile quarter. — By the light of the moon. — Onesime sulks with Osiris. — 
 His tenderness for Isis 118 
 
 CHAPTER Yin. 
 
 Monsieur de Lesseps. — Telegraph and Gambetta. — Bismarck is beaten by Monsieur 
 de Lesseps. — In the garden of Matarieh.- — A picnic. — The obelisk of Usertesen I. 
 and the Virgin's Tree. — The battle of Heliopolis. — Retrospective glance at 
 Heliopolis. — Onesime considers that the ancient Egyptians were madmen and 
 the Greeks cracked with genius. — He will not admit that Greek civilisation was 
 the offspring of that of the Egyptians.— He reproaches the learned with having 
 at times too much science. — The Egyptians invented powder. — Causes of the 
 greatness and decline of the Egyptians. — The petrified forest. — What Onesime 
 thinks of hypotheses. — Jacques a deicide. — Keradec pretends that if God hides 
 his abode it is because he desires to preserve his incognito, and that it would be 
 wrong to seek to disturb him, — Different hypotheses upon the petrified forest : 
 that of One sime. — A dash into the desert. — Return to Cairo 13/
 
 CONTENTS. XXXI 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the road to Ghizeh. — The Pyramids in the distance. — Escorted by the Arabs.— 
 At the foot of the Pyramids. — Carried off by the Bedouins. — Jacques and 
 Onesime ascend Khout-the-Brilliant. — On the top of the Pyramid. — The descent. 
 — Onesime's annoyances. — He meets old acquaintances of the Saul. — I/Ura 
 imiros. — Keradec"s opinion of the monuments of the Pharaohs. — Onesime's horror 
 of the latter. — Hypotheses as to the use and object of the Pyramids. — What 
 history and legend say of them. — Onesime's theories of these regular stone-faced 
 tumuli and their authors. — History of Youssoufs hand. — Digression on the 
 descendants of the Crusaders. — Her-the-Superior. — Cook and Son's packages. — 
 Ur't-the-Great. — The watchman of the desert. — In the shadow of the Sphinx. — 
 Trufiaes and Clos-Vougeot.— To the health of Osiris 1— The Temple of the Sphinx. 
 — Through the Mastabas.— At the hotel 16:> 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Onesime thanks his landlord. — How the wise are asses and the asses wise. — The 
 Mosque of Hassan.— Neglect of the Arabs.— The Mosque of Touloun.— The 
 legend of its minaret. — Onesime admires the Sultans and their mosques as much 
 as he abhors the Pharaohs and their monuments. — His horror of religions and 
 their ministers. — Oratorical explosion. — Onesime's jJoUlce verso. — There ! — Poly- 
 andry among the Arabs. — The Citadel.— Joseph's Well. — Ontsime will not visit 
 it. — The Mosque of Mahomet Ali. — Ontsime sleeps there on his feet. — Sudden 
 awakening.— How Jacques saved his life. — Sunset 204 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Onesime's gallantry almost gets him into trouble ; Hassan saves his equilibrium. — 
 Among the palms of Bedrasheen.— Local silhouettes.— The Colossus of Eameses II. 
 — A chaos of ruins. — Onesime steals away. — Jacques and Keradec go forward. — 
 Sakarah. — A negro dance. — Round the town.— Picturesque scenes. — Dealers in 
 antiquities. — Meeting a saint, — In the desert. — The Step Pyramid.- Onesime 
 calls it a mischievous gossip. — The ^lastaba of El-Pharaoun. — The tomb of Ti. — 
 Where one sees that the fellah was made for the stick, and vice ver-sd. — From 
 the dweller in caves to him on the Boulevards. — How we return to the age of 
 polished stone. — Digressions on Egyptian art. — Description of the bas-reliefs of 
 the tomb of Ti, and what Onesime thinks of them. — Mariette's house . . . 231
 
 XXXii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Chawazi and Awalin.— Their exile to Esneh.— Memphis.— Who Menes was.— Whence 
 came the Ancient Egyptians .'—The god Phtah and his temple.— The bull Apis 
 and the honours rendered to him.— Onesime an augur. — He beats all the prophets 
 and disentangles the oracles. — His explanation of the signs of the bull Apis. — 
 A compromising moonbeam. — On sacrifices and the victims. — Effect of the sun. — 
 Greatness and decline of the city of Menes.— Marietta's discovery. — Jacques and 
 Keradec explore the Serapeum. — Onesime reproaches them with troubling by 
 their noisy visits poor mummies who only want to rest in peace. — A breakneck 
 gallop to Bedrasheen station 257 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Keradec leaves for Upper Egypt. — Jacques introduces him, on the steamer, to Sir 
 Hugh and Miss Madge. — The Doctor is disagreeably surprised to meet Reptilius 
 on board. — A trip to the Bazaars. — The Mouski, the Khan-el-Khalil. the 
 Nahassin, the Serougieh, the Souk-es-SuUah, El-Ghourieh. — Along the Khalig. — 
 What remains of El-Asker and of El-Katai'. — The legend of the Tent of Amrou. 
 — Near the aqueduct, — filthy feast. — Old Cairo. — Its port. — With the Howling 
 Dervishes. — Their Mosque. — An ebony-coloured maniac, a fantastical Zikr. — In 
 the Coptic town. — The Church of Sidi Miriam. — The Mosque of Amrou. — The 
 legend of Omar ............. 281 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Bazaars again. — The way Onesime operates. — The mOristan of Kalaoun and his 
 Mosque. — That of Nas'r-Mohammed. — Round about the Mosques. — The per- 
 fumery bazaar. — An old quarter. — The tombs of the Mamelukes. — El-Achraf- 
 Ynal. — El-Ghouri. — El-Barkouk. — El-Achraf-Barsebai. — Kait-Bey. — The Mosque 
 of El-Azhar. — The Boulak Avenue. — The snake charmer. — The animal showman. 
 — The Boulak Museum. — The rooms in the Museum. — The mummies of Deir-el- 
 Behari. —Fabulous antiquity of the Egyptians. — The Boulak Port. — The island 
 of Ghezirch. — The Ghezireh drive. — They leave for Upper Egypt . . .315
 
 The Said leaving Jlaiseilles 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 En route. — Corsica. — Cook and Son's living parcels. — Those rogues of note-books. 
 — Secret warfare between the Cookites and the unlabelled. — The authentic 
 Baronet. — International confusion. — Where the reader makes the acquaint- 
 ance of Jacques and his friend Onesime Coquillard. — A propos of frontiers. — 
 The consequence of having studied geography in France. — Departure. — What 
 Jacques, followed by Onesime, wished to see in Egypt. — One'sime. — Gaietj- in 
 the forecastle ; frightful dulness at the stern. 
 
 ON October 8th, in the year 188-, at six o'clock at night, at the 
 "greeu hour," all perfumed with alcohol, when, upon the 
 Cannebiere, the Marseillais, intoxicated with his own tongue, tempers 
 his superb loquacity with an absinthe cut with a dash of anisette — 
 at that seductive hour the steamer of the Messageries, the Sa'i.dy 
 put out from the port of the Joliette. 
 
 Leaving on the left the old port, the Pharos, the Catalans ; on 
 the right the islands of Ratoneau and Pomegue ; then, doubling the 
 Chateau dlf, she steamed close to the sharp rocks of Maire Island, 
 and continued her course to the south-east, burying herself in the 
 twilight, where one caught a glimpse of half-lost capes, islands, and 
 promontories. 
 
 The dinner-bell summoned all the passengers. An hour afterwards 
 a few vague shadows wandered about the deck, where the bitter 
 
 1
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 emanations of tobacco mingled with tlie odours of the breeze. The 
 red tips of the cigars piercing the shadow of night alone indicated the 
 indistinct smokers. These lights went out one by one, little by little, 
 
 and there was silence, dis- 
 '- J rurbed only by the dull, 
 ierky moaning of the machine 
 and the shrill calls of the 
 captain's whistle. 
 
 The next morning the 
 passengers, with heavy eye- 
 lids and wrapped up in their 
 vugs, were assembled at the 
 stern, gaping, coughing, 
 stretching themselves out in 
 the Sim ; till, relaxing the 
 torpid muscles, the contracted 
 nerves, the warm effluvia 
 appeased by degrees the sup- 
 |n-essed irritability, the pain- 
 'ul twitches of refractory 
 rheumatism. 
 
 Through a slight vapour 
 rising sluggishly, slow, trans- 
 parent, and as if with regret, 
 one perceived on the right an uncertain streak of grey. The breeze 
 rose, drove away the lazy fog, and all at once, beneath a caress of 
 the sun, Corsica, with its barren shores, appeared — rugged, vindictive, 
 and iH'oud. 
 
 " Corsica I " pronounced a telescope ; and English, French, Ameri- 
 cans, Russians, Germans, Italians, Spaniards, rastaquoucres of all 
 shades — all the various specimens of humanity grouped on the deck 
 gazed ahead. 
 
 One heard a febrile rustling of pages : it was the living parcels 
 forwarded by Cook and Son from various countries to Cairo, carriage 
 jtaid and insured in case of accident, turning over the leaves of their 
 
 The deck of the SaU.
 
 THOSE EOGUES OF NOTE-BOOKS. 6 
 
 guide-books in search of the descriptive note, which, slightly 
 mutilated, and enlarged by their personal impressions, was in- 
 scribed, after due meditation, and with a thoughtful air, in their 
 note-books. 
 
 The note-books ! How many does one find, especially in the 
 United Kingdom, of those famous note-books that have come back 
 from Egypt, placed treacherously, with subtle art, with affected negli- 
 gence, upon the most prominent piece of furniture, on the drawing- 
 room table between Shakespeare and Longfellow ! They are spread 
 out provokingly, those impudent little rogues, under different head- 
 ings : " Souvenirs of Egypt " ; "A Trip to Cairo " ; " My Impressions." 
 
 Corsica. 
 
 " My Impressions " is the title generally selected by those who have 
 this ambition developed. 
 
 Besides Cook and Son's bundles, unlabelled Englishmen sought 
 insidiously to widen the distance between themselves and the former, 
 while these, like consummate strategists, exerted themselves none the 
 less insidiously to diminish it. The struggle was silent, stubborn, 
 incessant. On both sides recourse wns had to the cunning ruses of Red 
 Indians ; on the one hand to come into contact, on the other to avoid 
 doing so. 
 
 An authentic Baronet, who had broken out of bounds of Parliament, 
 cold, correct, was the radiant star round which all these planets in 
 aberration gravitated ; and his perfect indifference to both parties
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 avenged the Cookites, somewhat, for the disdain of the adverse 
 faction. 
 
 From time to time a compJex glitter shone like a flash of light- 
 ning, followed by a metallic rattling of 
 tubes roughly torn from their cases, and 
 tall, bilious-looking Americans, handling 
 lengthy telescopes with their long hands, 
 pointed them at the land in view. 
 
 Dark, full-blooded Frenchmen, with 
 sun-burnt skins and hair cut close to 
 the skull, were chattering like magpies, 
 stamping on the ground with a debauchery 
 of gesture which exasperated the tele- 
 scopers, deranging the stability of their 
 instruments. 
 
 A German in "us," a Doctor Herr 
 Reptilius — they are all doctors in Ger- 
 many, and all end in " us " — consolidated 
 subproboscidate nose 
 
 The unlabelled Englishman. 
 
 on his bulbous 
 
 his gold-rimmed spectacles— they all 
 wear spectacles in Germany — reflected 
 profoundly, and extracted from his 
 huge pocket an immense map, in which 
 he buried himself, the studious portion 
 of " the second-hand colossus I " 
 
 Olive-green Italians, with low fore- 
 heads and loud voices, expressed 
 regret through their nasal organs 
 that Corsica was French, Nice the 
 principal town of a French department, 
 and Savoy annexed. 
 
 A taciturn Spaniard, full of dignity, 
 rolled a cigarette and digested his 
 chocolate. 
 
 An exsanguinous Russian, retnrniuii: 
 
 The Frenchman.
 
 INTERNATIONAL CONFUSION. 
 
 from Siberia, smiled lauguidly throngli the silky threads of his 
 lonof fair beard. 
 
 Amidst all these appeared the delicate features of pretty young 
 
 diaphanous Misses, ^^^ _^ 
 
 with fine heads, all ' ^ ^ %,- ' ^^^^^. 
 
 pink and white like \'-^ - J ^^ 
 
 Yorkshire hams, and 
 vigorous appetites; 
 they were chirping 
 and uttering little 
 cries like frightened 
 larks, while elderly 
 ladies, grave and 
 ugly, full of con- 
 centrated respect- 
 ability, blew their 
 noses like sonorous 
 trumpets beneath 
 the brazen sky! 
 
 Merry French- 
 women were con- 
 versing with each 
 other gailv, talking 
 
 Ok? O 
 
 very lightly of ex- 
 tremely serious 
 matters, beside 
 beantiful Italian 
 women, with dull 
 complexions and 
 harsh profiles, who, 
 envelojjing them- 
 selves in the morb- 
 idezza that is essential to every Italian woman who respects 
 herself, spoke in a most serious tone of matters that little deserved 
 it. A group of sentimental German women, temptingly plump, 
 
 (' ^ 
 
 Doctor Reptilius.
 
 6 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 with fair skins, limpid eyes the colour of vergiss-mein-nicht, in the 
 aureola of their golden hair, were blushingly murmuring tenderly 
 poetical nothings, and in such long words that when they reached 
 the end they had forgotten the commencement, those exemplary 
 spouses, those incomparable housewives, " without rivals for making 
 jam and fabricating children." 
 
 The island showed itself in full, with its hard outlines slightly 
 clouded by the last remnants of the fog ; the cliflFs stood out clear, 
 
 in dusty violet tones, in the rays of 
 morning. A few fishermen's boats, with 
 white sails, were resting at anchor, 
 similar to enormous sea-mews dozing, 
 fatigued, upon the blue water of the 
 
 (^"^t \\V/ />^ Mediterranean. 
 
 -V^~ r-^l»!!. I xP^s~ " I say," exclaimed a young man in 
 
 French to his friend, " look at those 
 sun-bathed shores, at that pretty bit of 
 ground ! " 
 
 " Pooh ! Corsica, a miserable place," 
 answered the other. 
 
 " A miserable place ? " 
 " Yes, a miserable place, where the 
 people pass their existence in mutually 
 suppressing each other, in popping one 
 another off from behind hedges ; a pas- 
 time as amusing as it is dangerous, which 
 they call the vendetta. They indulge in this attractive sport in the 
 ' maquis ' with which the country is covered — probably for that 
 purpose. Bonaparte, who was born in this charming cut-throat isle, 
 of which he is the glory, excelled at this amusing game. Europe 
 learnt it from him at his expense ; it cost her twenty years' warfare 
 and millions of men." 
 
 " And why ? To be on one side or the other of a river, of a 
 mountain, or of a certain line of demarcation, of which the custom- 
 house officers are the landmarks — for frontiers, in fact." 
 
 The Spaniard.
 
 A PHOPOS OF FEONTIERS. 
 
 " Exactly ! " 
 
 " But are frontiers indispensable then ? " 
 
 " Probably, as they are maintained." 
 
 " Bnt what is the use of them ? " 
 
 
 <^ \ 
 
 " What is the use of them ? 
 Why, it is this noble, but 
 dangerous wall of national 
 life, that makes us French — 
 and i)roud of being so ! Sup- 
 pose, for a moment, that you 
 were to suppress the Pyrenees 
 — we would at once be scraping 
 the guitar and dancing the fandango ; the Alps — we would be eating 
 macaroni and speaking through the nose ; the Jura— we would be 
 sounding the ranz des vaches through a bugle ; the Rhine — we would 
 be stuffing ourselves with sauerkraut and sausages ; the Straits of 
 Dover — we would be singing psalms and reading the Bible ; the 
 
 V
 
 8 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Belgian custom-liouse officers— then we would be speaking pigeon 
 Frencli and drinking ' faro ' ! 
 
 " But a biped who strums on a guitar and disports himself in 
 a fandango ; swallows yards of macaroni and speaks through the 
 nose ; bellows the ranz des vaches — and through a horn too ; 
 revels in sauerkraut and sausages; chants canticles and reads the 
 Bible ; speaks negro fashion and intoxicates himself with ' faro,' 
 
 you will agree with me, is not a Frenchman. He may be an 
 
 Albino, a Caraib, an anthropophagus— perhaps a rational animal — 
 anything you like except a Frenchman. Therefore, the frontiers 
 being our guarantee against the guitar and fandango, macaroni and 
 nasal intonation, the ranz des vaches and the bugle through which 
 it is sounded, sauerkraut and sausages, psalms and the Bible, 
 the Flemish language and ' faro,' we are indebted to them for 
 being uncontaminated, and remaining what we are — that is to say, 
 free from all those exotic eccentricities, the absence of which is our 
 most beautiful ornament and the most appreciable of our qualities. 
 You see that one cannot do without frontiers if one has the least 
 desire to belong to one's country : Nemo potest exuere patriamy 
 
 " Yes ; but apart from the glory of being French ? " 
 
 " There remains the advantage of always having a quarrel on 
 one's hands — in case of need. Quarrels are so useful— especially 
 when you are in the wrong." 
 
 " There is no necessity to quarrel — when there is no cause. 
 Sublata causa, tollitur effectusf'' 
 
 " But the frontier itself is the cause — the permanent, inevitable, 
 fatal cause ! Did you ever hear of two landowners, separated from 
 each other by an intermediate wall, keeping up a good understanding ? 
 — Never ! They always end in going to law, and, if they are 
 obstinate, in ruining themselves. Well, frontiers are the inter- 
 mediate walls of nations ; only the dispute is settled by cannon 
 balls ; but it terminates in the same way as the other : people 
 become obstinate, and both sides are ruined, or nearly so." 
 
 "But could not these terrible frontiers be abolished? -There 
 would be no more fighting about them."
 
 JACQUES AND HIS FEIEND ONESIME COQUILLARD. 9 
 
 " Abolish them ! Why yon are suggesting the destruction of 
 the entire human race, unhappy man ! When we no longer fight, 
 we shall cease killing each other, and humanity, in a body, will die 
 of ennui.^^ 
 
 " The nostalgia of the cannon, eh, madcap ? It's of a driven-in 
 paradox that you'll die ! " 
 
 i; rSONTllRtl 
 
 The Fiench Frontier. 
 
 "And you too, for having listened to me." 
 Then the two friends walked away laughing, arm-in-arm. 
 Jacques, who had spoken the first, was a curious type. His 
 name was Jacques — Jacques, nothing more. He had seen the light 
 of day on the rich slopes of Burgundy, that pearl of France, that 
 admirable cellar which excites the bitter envy of the grotesque 
 tipplers beyond the Rhine — as if those divine vintages had been
 
 10 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 produced for their barbarian throats. He was au artist. One fine 
 day, without any warning, he had closed his studio, phaced the 
 key under tbe door-mat, writing in chalk on the door, " On a visit 
 to the sons of Osiris," and had taken a ticket for Cairo, just as if 
 he had been going to Asnieres or Meudou. For since we have 
 had a colonial empire, or rather a colonial republic, in France, with 
 a special Ministry and Minister, like the old neighbour on the other 
 side of the Straits, we have become prodigiously daring in the way 
 of travels. 
 
 The study of geography, which previously bad been very much 
 neglected, according to what some people say, has become quite 
 fashionable since 1870. The Government, to credit these wicked 
 tongues, animated by noble ardour, rivalling Cook, of tourist renown,, 
 largely contributed to develop this taste. They first of all organised^ 
 at the cost of the State, cellular voyages to New Caledonia, Noumea, 
 Pine-tree Island, and the neighbourhood. Audaces fortuna juvat. 
 Emboldened by success, they rushed towards other shores ; they 
 wanted to do something grand ! Glory trips were organised for 
 Tunis, Madagascar, Tonkin. In this instance the voyage was not 
 gratis ; the passengers, selected by chance, paid with their skins, 
 and most of them left them there ! Those who returned brought 
 back bundles of laurels — and fevers ! 
 
 They sacrificed thousands of men and millions, said the jjusil- 
 lanimous and chicken-hearted souls. The last Chinese adventure was 
 particularly expensive. While, at Tunis, the Bey could not blow 
 his nose without permission of the Eepublic ; at Madagascar, France 
 became the titulary dragoman of her Malagassi Majesty, who was 
 governed by English Methodists ; there she abandoned her Sakalave 
 allies to the Hovas ; China, after an honourable and costly exchange 
 of hostilities, undertook to entrust to French engineers— ?/2Y pleased 
 her—thQ task of laying down a problematical network of railroads ; 
 in Tonkin outlets were to be opened to— foreign -commerce ! 
 
 There were colonies — but no colonists to place there, continued 
 the luke-warm patriots, with severe irony. There was a gaj). Nations 
 that had colonists and to spare — and no colonies, filled it up.
 
 CONSEQUENCE OF HAVING STUDIED GEOGEAPHY IN FEANCE. 11 
 
 France had again spent her blood and gold for others, and had 
 unconsciously pulled the chestnuts out of the fire, being treated with 
 egregious bad faith. 
 
 Fortunately, beside those timid characters, those people devoid 
 of initiative, of narrow views, restrained to au unproductive policy, 
 there are some wiser minds, of a wider breadth of view, imbued 
 with a more enlightened idea of patriotism and a more correct notion 
 
 nh I 
 
 zLfj J LI ii 
 
 ]ji3i7fi 1 1 
 
 1 he study of geography. 
 
 of the mission of France. More profound and sagacious, farther 
 seeing politicians, have perceived in this cleverly provoked thirst to 
 expand the Republic a way to give new outlets to her commerce, 
 and the extension of French ideas. 
 
 They thought that the French nation, that Gallic race which has 
 been described as " so apt to conquer the world, but so powerless to 
 keep it," at least knew after the conquest how to open her purse to 
 assist in the prosperity of her colonies, instead of enriching herself
 
 12 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 at their expense and mercilessly exhausting them, after the example 
 of other nations that are more — colonising. 
 
 Perhaps these over-daring partisans of a colonial policy are only, 
 after all, simple visionaries, dupes of exaggerated jingoism, magnify- 
 ing beyond measure their belief in the destiny and importance of their 
 country ! Perhaps those adversaries whom they accuse of timidity 
 are merely prudent pilots, anxious lest the fortunes of France 
 should be wrecked in a policy of adventure. 
 
 The future will show us 
 whether the daring or circum- 
 spect were right. 
 
 Jacques, however, had 
 dared ! On the way he had 
 met his friend Onesime Coquil- 
 lard. 
 
 " Where are you going to ? " 
 inquired the latter. 
 " To Egypt." 
 " What for ? " 
 " To see." 
 
 " See what ? See whom ? " 
 " The country — the sons of 
 Osiris." 
 
 " I'll go too ; you'll introduce 
 me ; we'll see together." 
 
 Jacques and On&inie. (yOmC OU . 
 
 " Let us be off ! " 
 And they had boldly set out, so thoroughly had the love of travel, 
 which had seized hold on the Government, infiltrated itself, like 
 healthy inoculation fluid, among the masses, and driven them forth 
 to the four quarters of the globe. 
 
 A painter of merit, a draughtsman of talent, Jacques had wished 
 to see Egypt ; he wanted to bow to the grandmother of nations, to 
 interrogate the Sphinx, contemplate Bonaparte's forty centuries on 
 the summit of the pyramids ; see if the Orient was a mvtli invented
 
 WHAT JACQUES WISHED TO SEE IN EGYPT. 13 
 
 by a facetious Rajiiu and Orientalism a snperfetation ; whether 
 Gerome's i\.hnehs and Bashi-Bazouks existed elsewhere than on his 
 canvases ; whether Regnanlt and Fromeutin had shown greater 
 imagination than they shonld have done ; whether the so mnch 
 vannted water of the Nile deserved its reputation ; whether the stick 
 was made purposely for the backs of the fellaheen, as a great patriotic 
 statesman had affirmed at the French Tribune. His dream was to 
 bring a crocodile back with him, into his studio, a real one, and 
 to return with a little sunshine at the end of his brushes. 
 
 Physically he was a tall, strong fellow, well built, supple, firmly 
 set upon his muscular legs ; the sinews of a hunter ; light reddish 
 hair ; clear, penetrating, grey eyes, with a bold, mocking look about 
 them ; the nose was straight, firm, finely modelled ; the mouth well 
 furnished, revealing an expression of banter beneath a fawn-coloured 
 moustache. He had a good appetite and the stomach of an ostrich. 
 In a word, he was well armed to eno-ao^e in the battle of life — and win 
 it. The man was original, his aspect sympathetic. 
 
 Morally speaking, a giddy head, a warm heart ; a clever brain, 
 with a fair amount of wit and a good many ideas ; joking seriously, 
 always astride on a paradox, with a horror of fools and fleeing from 
 them as from the pest. An able linguist, he was gifted with a 
 peculiar scent for discovering suspicious and fantastical etymologies. 
 
 Onesime Coquillard, from Paris, his friend, in accompanying him, 
 had been actuated a little by the want of occupation, a great deal by a 
 desire to be with him, in a measure also by curiosity, but not at all 
 by an inclination for travelling. 
 
 Left an orphan at an early age, a comfortable little income — 
 aiirea mediocritas — permitted him to live without working — and 
 he took advantage of his position ! As lazy as a dormouse, he 
 had buried himself in his cheese, like the rat in the fable, purring 
 away with the beatitude of a Capucin the existence of a porter's cat. 
 Dark, short, fat, dumpy, bearded, hairy, downy, low on the shanks, a 
 good fellow, with a beaming countenance, happy, he rolled through life 
 tpiite slowly, without jolting. He was very fond of Jacques, a friend 
 from childhood, who returned his affection. He was content to see
 
 14 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 others work ; the task of looking on, the only one that was not antipathic 
 to him, sufficed. " One cannot do everything at once," he often re- 
 marked to his active Pylades ; " yon work, and I am resting for you." 
 He was witty, at times, when his laziness gave him an opportunity. 
 He handled irony rather skilfully, lost his self-possession rapidly — on 
 the surface, and regained it with even greater rapidity. His sudden 
 displays of temper, factitious rather than real, broke out suddenly 
 about nothing, and ended in the same way. A spoilt child of nature, 
 he just allowed himself to live quietly, making of wisdom a i^leasure, 
 not an honour; of his idleness a virtue, not a vice. He detested 
 revolutions by nature, loved liberty by egotism, hated war by instinct, 
 but fought bravely — out of self-respect, he said. He was rather 
 indifferent about religion ; but, if brought to the subject, he thundered 
 against all religions, and scoifed at their ministers. 
 
 Feeling convinced that all the great thoughts of man come from 
 the stomach, " that sublime alembic," he had vowed consequently a 
 profound, devoted, and scrupulously rational worship to that agreeable 
 organ. Gifted with a delicate sense of smell, a subtle taste, a very 
 respectable power of absorption and assimilation, he loved the table 
 and behaved very well there, eating steadily, drinking neat, expanding 
 his good humour around him. He was polite during the first course, 
 gallant with the second, tender at dessert, enterprising at the cham- 
 pagne, daring afterwards I The aspect of a bottle of Clos-Vougeot, 
 of a famous year, of venerable age, affected him considerably. The 
 arrival on the table of a truffied turkey at once paralysed his power 
 of speech. 
 
 His slumbers were as tranquil as his conscience. He advanced 
 indifferently towards the inevitable end, armed with his charming 
 egotism, satisfied with himself, thoughtless about others, finding that 
 everything was for the best, in the best of worlds possible. When 
 Jacques laughingly called him a gasteropode, On^sime retaliated with 
 cephalopode : they were living and inseparable antitheses. 
 
 The two friends had installed themselves foreard, amidst a group 
 of sailors, where Jacques must have been up to his games, judging by 
 the noisv liilaritv tliat reigned around him.
 
 DULNESS AT THE STERN. 
 
 15 
 
 But astern a sinister oinui weiglied on every one ; black, dull, somno- 
 lent eniiui ; an nnhajjpy product of bad, over-satiated stomachs, sick 
 livers, affected pancreas, overflowing bile, cboked-up ganglions, empty 
 brains. 
 
 The hoarse sighs of the machine, with its dull, regular, monotonous 
 strokes, scanned with their merciless rhythm the grotesque snoring, 
 the strange gasping, the doleful gaping of this mournful assembly of 
 undertakers' men, with ossified, zygomatic muscles ; of these unhappy 
 victims of spleen I
 
 
 =^5^ Fji?fc 
 
 ReptiluTs on the deck. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The silhouette of Eeptilius. — Where it is seen that Jacques has a spite against the 
 Germans and a grain of ill-temper against the Italians. — Outburst of ultra- 
 patriotism on his part, complicated by excessive socialism. — Exhibition of 
 principles. — Dismay of Onesime ; his horror of the cataclysm. 
 
 A T tliis moment Reptilins bad just left his neighbours the Italians, 
 -^-*- with whom he bad launched out at a gallop into a burning 
 discussion, the subject of which rolled upon the road Italy ought 
 to take in crossing the Alps and penetrating into France in concert 
 with Germany, which would invade it by the east. He was advancing* 
 fore'ard. gravely promenading his odd silhouette of a bird of ill-omen ; 
 a sardonic smile wrinkled his pallid face, while his eye ran over the 
 map he held in his hand as he walked along. He passed near the 
 group, absorbed in meditation, and on the overhanging margin of 
 the unfolded map Jacques was able to read, " The eastern frontier of 
 France, drawn up by Herr Berghaus and Karl Yogel." 
 
 " So they have the eye always fixed on our frontiers, from which a 
 slice has already been removed, watching a weak point that will serve 
 to open a new breach in them," said Jacques, in a hollow tone of 
 voice, in which anger was blended with a sort of contemptuous irony ; 
 and a flow of blood reddened his cheeks, while the bitter flood of 
 souvenirs rose up and oppressed his throat. 
 
 16
 
 JACQUES HAS A SriTE AGAINST THE GERMANS. 
 
 17 
 
 ' i7i:k:}(i:i£iiM^!iM/:, 
 
 " blond and geographical Germans ! " lie exclaimed, in a stifled 
 and restrained voice ; " men of strong breath, all jjerfumed with 
 healthy and homely smells of beer, tobacco, sauerkrant, and pork ; 
 virtuous Saxons, whose oily pores exhale those penetrating effluvia 
 which envelop your heavy bodies, precede your presence, and announce 
 you from afar, fatal messengers to people with a delicate sense of 
 smell and debilitated stomach ; picturesque myopes with unctuous 
 hair, who confound in one immense predilection science and beer, 
 philosophy and sausages ; chaste 
 and pure Germans, with square 
 heads, rounded bellies, enormous 
 loins, large feet, and phenomenal 
 intestines, which you have twelve 
 feet longer than less privileged 
 mortals ; automatons disciplined 
 with the stick ; grotesque calli- 
 pyges of whom the sons of 
 Rabelais have rendered the name 
 of Prussian immortal by making 
 it synonymous with that part of 
 the body which begins imme- 
 diately where the loins end ; 
 kleptomaniacs of clocks ; indis- 
 creet spectacled serpents, who 
 have raised espionage to a virtue ; 
 cumbersome race that has burst 
 spontaneously into life, whose 
 
 prolific wave threatens to cover the world and to destroy the superior 
 species that generate more discreetly ; practical people who made 
 the war with France a matter of business, in the names of ' William, 
 Bismarck, Moltke, & Co.,' which brought you five milliards of francs 
 and two provinces, — take your rest, honest brokers, booted, sjiurred, 
 armed, helmeted, paid bailiff's men, sanguinary usurers of the battle- 
 field ; rest in peace on your laurels and your milliards, rocked to 
 sleep by your heinous ' Te Deum,' and, satiated boas, digest in 
 
 Cultivating espionage.
 
 18 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 tranquillity your conquests! France is still healing her wounds, 
 and if your black eagles have for their motto the barbarous war-cry, 
 ' Mio-ht before right ! ' our standards have, inscribed in their folds, 
 that immortal device of humanity, ' Liberty, Equality, Fraternity ' ; 
 right in its turn will stand before might! 
 
 " And you, Italians, you the sister nation who implore a smile 
 from Bismarck, who looks upon you as a quantite negligeable ; you who 
 
 ' Rest in peace on your laurels.' 
 
 abandon France, who made you free ! you who, with a superb inde- 
 pendence of heart, cannot forgive her good services ; you who shout, 
 ' Stop thief ! ' when she hands you a kingdom in exchange for a town 
 and a few mountains covered with a handful of sweeps ; who grabbed 
 Borne from her and had an eye on Tunis when she was gasping 
 beneath the heel of Bismarck, — take care that the gendarmes do not 
 arrest you, illustrious effete ; you, who were Romans, and have 
 retained their formidable appetite, without having preserved their 
 power of digestion. 
 
 " Have yon forgotten the record of your august ancestor, the wolf's
 
 JACQUES HAS A GRAIN OF ILL-TEMPER AGAINST THE ITALIANS. 19 
 
 suckling, whose ferocity be inherited ? who, slaughtering his brother, 
 robbing his neighbours, violating their wives, implanted himself, 
 sinister bandit, in the Aveutine with his gang of worthless followers ? 
 " Ambitious victims of neurosis, do not stir up a past that would 
 crush you ; trouble not a present which disdains the prattle of a 
 people in long clothes, and do not obstruct the future by those 
 deleterious dreams of universal domination which pollute your sick 
 brain and impede your growth I Impotent race, you have lost the 
 
 Italy imploring a smile from Bismarck. 
 
 strength, forsrotten the lans-uag-e of the masters of the world, vour 
 ancestors ; you cannot and do not know how to say, Cims sum 
 Romanus ; S.P.Q.R. no longer means for you Seriatus j^opulusque 
 Eomani/s. for you they are now only four letters without meaning ; 
 Url/s is no longer on the seven hills : it is everywhere where civilisa- 
 tion engenders progress and bestows a freedom ; one is no longer a 
 Roman citizen, but a citizen of the world ! Rome is dead— dead 
 and buried like Marlborough. You will not resuscitate it I One 
 does not rise from one's ashes ; the last Phoenix has been killed I 
 There are no more Romans ; the species is for ever destroyed, and
 
 20 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 nature does not recommence species ; there are only Italians, a 
 rudiment of people, a nation in an embryo state, an old geogra- 
 phical expression that has been revived. Lucullus no longer dines 
 with Lucullus, he eats ravioli \ Tiberius smokes halfpenny cigars ; 
 Vesuvius smokes for tourists ; your old crumbling monuments are 
 falling to pieces; your old boot, transformed into a museum of 
 antiquities, is worn out. You are an old new thing ! " 
 
 And Jacques turned round to the group of French sailors, who, 
 with the mobility peculiar to their nation, were delighted with this 
 ludicrous outburst against Italy, when an instant previous their 
 fists had been clenching at the thoughts he had evoked about their 
 own invaded country. 
 
 " You are treating them nicely, those poor Italians ; what have 
 they done to you ? " said Onesime, taking Jacques by the arm and 
 walking along the deck with him. 
 
 " Nothing. Only I feel hurt at their ingratitude to us." 
 
 " Yes, but we have in a measure deserved it, owing to the inej^t 
 policy of Napoleon III., who, to pay court to Pius IX., who was 
 laughing at him, and to keep his title of eldest son of the Church, 
 so long left Rome to the Pope, who hated us, instead of giving it 
 to the Italians, who loved us ; he, in the place of completing our 
 work of independence and handing Italy her capital, which she so 
 warmly desired, thus ensuring her friendship and gratitude for ever, 
 made, on the contrary, the service rendered weigh heavily upon her, 
 affecting even to ignore that Italy also had fought valiantly beside us 
 for her independence ; he wounded the dignity of the young nation 
 in the person of her King, whom the men of the Tuileries treated as a 
 prefect of the Empire." 
 
 " I don't say nay ; but Italy should not have held France, who 
 spilt her blood to set her free, responsible for the stupidities of an 
 imbecile Cassar. She might have maintained her ill-feeling for the 
 Emperor, but should have preserved us her friendship — and I 
 reproach the hare-brained creature with her silly pranks with 
 Bismarck ; but I am without anger, and cannot feel hatred for a 
 nation of our own blood."
 
 OUTBUEST OF ULTEA-PATEIOTISM. 21 
 
 " Qui bene amat, bene castigat ; that is the secret of your bullying 
 her so." 
 
 " In a measure " 
 
 " A good deal." 
 
 " That's true. Now ! the peoples of the earth are gathering 
 together in yiew of a supreme struggle for life ; and soon, disgusted, 
 thinking better of her ridiculous mania for the great colossus, who is 
 making fun of her, faithful to the instincts of her race, guided by a 
 more lofty ambition, the beautiful sweetheart of the arts will throw 
 herself into the arms of her big sister, France, to form with Spain, 
 that other proud and noble sister, the triple league of the Latin races 
 which will break up German unity." 
 
 " I shall illuminate, that evening." 
 
 " And you will do well ! But for the day to come, delenda est 
 Germania ! " 
 
 " You hate them yery intensely, then, these Germans ? " 
 
 " Yes, I hate them, these paryenus of ^^ctory ; but I shall never 
 hate them so much as they execrate us. Their hatred has most 
 vivaciously survived their yictory. 
 
 " We are, at any rate, not capable of such dire animosity as they 
 cherish since 187U in the contemplation of their glory, crystallised 
 in the continuous apotheosis of their triumph ; we are not persecuted, 
 as they are, by the microbe of an intense rage, which has reached the 
 acute stage, and which all the prophylactic of Pasteur could not cure ; 
 and never could a Frenchwoman soil her heart and lips with that 
 ferocious wish, expressed in 1870 by a woman — Germaine, Countess of 
 Bismarck : ' to see all the Gauls burnt or shot, all, even the smallest 
 children.' 
 
 " We cannot, as they can, slowly distil, drop by drop, for three- 
 quarters of a century, the venom of an incurable hatred refractory even 
 to satiety ; and if they were able to strike us down, it was thanks to that 
 handful of Protestants whom the revocation of the Edict of Nantes 
 drove out of France, and whose descendants now belong to the staff of 
 those rapacious reiters who ' have robbed us of our way of fighting, as 
 they have stolen our trade-marks ' ; military plagiarists inventing I
 
 22 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 know not wLat ' Furor Teutonicus ' in opposition to our chevaleresque 
 ' Furia Francese,' just as they set their sour little white wines of the 
 Rhine against our admirable brands of Champagne. It is also due to 
 the gallant souvenirs which the conquerors of Jena left amongst them 
 during the passage of the great army, infusing into the veins of these 
 cold-blooded animals a little fervent Gallic ardour. 
 
 '' We know not how to hate in France ; we have never known how. 
 We have had sublime outbursts of anger, which have produced terrible 
 revolutions ; they bore in their fecund flanks Liberty, w^hich freed the 
 world, struggling desperately in the grasp of the j)riests during that 
 atrocious nightmare of the middle ages. 
 
 " But each of those efforts exhausted us ; and when these Teutonic 
 hordes, who had been making ready for half a century under the canes 
 of their officers, swooped down upon France, like voracious vultures, 
 eager for the spoil, they found her weakened by those repeated 
 shocks and taken unawares. After a superhuman effort, in an unequal 
 struggle, handed over at Sedan by a flabby Cassar, betrayed at Metz 
 by the infamous Bazaine, resisting Frederick Charles with her young 
 recruits and the remnant of her armies, France saved her honour, in 
 spite of her chiefs, in an heroic defence beneath the walls of Paris. 
 
 " At length, maimed in her four limbs by her revolutions, crushed 
 by the enemy, losing blood at all her wounds, she succumbed a martyr 
 to liberty, mutilated by her implacable conqueror, who amputated 
 Alsace and Lorraine from her, emptied her pockets, teaching her hatred, 
 of which she knew nothing, and paralysiag her steady advance towards 
 progress, by forcing her to enter in her turn on the path of revenge, 
 which will end in a fatal duel, in which one of the two nations will 
 perish ! " 
 
 " Amen ! " said On^sime. " I hope it will not be France." 
 
 " France will never succumb. The breath of liberty is in her, and 
 liberty does not die ! France, republican and free, will kill monarchical 
 and enslaved Germany, just as modern ideas and science have killed 
 ancient superstition and ignorance. Then right will have conquered 
 might ; reason, the priest ; liberty, kings. Then those immense 
 armies, that unconscious and irresponsible scourge, which expands like

 
 OUTBURST OF ULTRA-PATEIOTISM. 25 
 
 a gigantic cancer over the world and gnaws it to its very marrow, 
 absorbing tbe purest part of its blood — living, dangerous parasite of 
 the fruit of her colossal labour — will have disappeared for ever ! Then 
 humanity, delivered, will perhaps be able to lend her ear to the dull 
 rustling stir of the lower social strata ; she will be able to atten- 
 tively follow the slow movement, the profound, mysterious work of 
 transformation which is taking place among those murmuring masses, 
 bestirring themselves in the secular slough of eternal misery where 
 the merciless forgetfulness of the rulers has left them. Already 
 at intervals, which are shorter and more threatening each time, some 
 have risen to the surface, wan forerunners of famished multitudes, 
 provoked by an accumulation of terrible suffering, of despair without 
 a name, struggling livid in those sinister depths, in that Gehenna, 
 hungering for air, liberty, and enjoyment ! And their appetites must 
 be satisfied, their sorrows must be assuaged, their stigmas effaced, 
 the sufferers consoled, and a place in the sunlight must be given to 
 those despairing souls, if you do not wish to disappear in a universal 
 panic, borne away by a frightful cataclysm caused by the explosion of 
 the exasperated anger of the lower orders in revolt ! 
 
 " Instead of stagnating in a secular routine, instead of fruitlessly 
 discussing old texts of ambiguously worded laws, we must cast ofl" this 
 unhealthy torpor, march resolutely forward, burn the old barbarous 
 codes, the old antiquated laws, take a new line, and, guided by eternal 
 justice, seek out the evil, destroy it, and find the modern formula by 
 which to the right to live will be added the right and possibility of 
 enjojing life. We must rebalance this world, which has been thrown 
 out of its equilibrium by an unequal distribution of enjoyment and 
 misery ; where the unfortunate die of hunger in the face of bloated 
 millionaires, who paper the walls of their smoking-rooms with bank- 
 notes ; where children, who have too rapidly become men, commit 
 suicide ; where men, who relapse into childhood too soon, lose their 
 brain power. We must put an end to this lugubrious mystification 
 which has existed so long I " 
 
 Onesime was blue I an indigo blue I He stood there gaping, 
 nailed to the deck, with haggard eye, struck down Ijy the idea of this
 
 26 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 colossal and apin-oaching downfall which Jacques had jnst evoked. 
 Onesime — the peaceful Onesime, honest On^sime, One^sime Coquillard 
 of Paris, independent gentleman, bachelor, elector, taxpayer, a friend 
 of order and the Government — felt a shudder of terror running between 
 his epidermis and the fat coagulated in the flabby adipose membranes 
 of his person. For a moment he felt as if suffocating — and not 
 without cause ! 
 
 He had performed the jDart of echo when Jacques had roared 
 against the Germans, he was a " Jingo " ; he had echoed again when 
 Jacques had given Italy a dressing, he was of a gay turn of mind ; he 
 had continued to sound the echo when Jacques in a sentence had 
 anathematised warfare, he hated it ; the social strata had left him 
 indifferent, although a trifle suspicions ; the appetites — of others 
 — to be satisfied, the stigmas to be effaced, the consolation to be 
 supplied, the place in the sunlight to be given to the despairing, had 
 alarmed him ; but what had routed him, brought him to the earth, 
 crushed him, scattered him in pieces, was the last blow, that rude 
 thrust at his repose, that death-stroke Avith which his income was 
 threatened, that was the frightful thunder-clap of which he seemed to 
 hear the distant rumbling, and which was to pulverise all I All ! 
 down to poor and inoffensive Onesime Coquillard of Paris inclusively ! 
 That was the cataclysm at short date, that incommensurate calamity 
 which had been suddenly thrust under his nose ; and he had quaked 
 and trembled at the prospect ; in the agony of his despair he had 
 wept over himself— internally, intonating in sobs the ile profimdis 
 of his misery — always internally, for, with that exquisite and 
 rare modesty which is the privilege of great souls, he concealed, true 
 martyr that he was, his extreme suffering, just as the timid violet 
 modestly hides her perfumed petals beneath the grass, and without 
 faltering had drained the chalice to the dregs. Onesime was a man 
 — a man ! 
 
 He gradually recovered himself, for his strength of character was 
 great, and while still overwhelmed with the anguish of his fright, he 
 poked out his nose from his prostration and turned his eyes on Jacques. 
 That look was a look of despair ; it was a mute, eloquent, profoundly
 
 onesdie's hoeeor of the cataclysm. 27 
 
 sad appeal to the pity of him who, juggling with his tranquillity of 
 mind, made his liver turn pale and his heart beat with his sinister 
 predictions. 
 
 Jacques had a mad inclination to laugh at the sight of his scared 
 appearance ; he sought for a moment to restrain himself ; but being 
 unable to resist any longer, he roared out in the face of the stupefied 
 Onesime. 
 
 " He's laughing " ; and Onesime made a calm, grand, resigned 
 gesture, expressive of the intensity of the bitterness that filled his 
 mind. 
 
 " But just look at yourself," exclaimed Jacques ; " you have got 
 such an odd face, you look so peculiarly funny, that you would do the 
 same if you could only see yourself." 
 
 " So — peculiarly — funny ! " slowly jmnctuated Onesime, and he 
 paused majestically. Then his long-suj)pressed indignation burst out 
 full of noble wrath. 
 
 " But, son of a gun ! what would you have me look like when 
 you unexpectedly announce such topsy-turvy dom, such a chaos of 
 frightful things ? Set fire to the Code ! Trample on the law ! Dis- 
 miss the gendarmes ! Sweep away all the institutions I Break and 
 rack everything I Sack ! Pillage I Flay alive ! Go on gaily I Act 
 like madmen ! And, when you are quite tired of the game, when 
 nothing remains standing in this abomination of desolation, carefully 
 rebalance this disequilibrated world ! And then set the galley sailing 
 on the ocean of ruins I That is your programme, Vandal I " 
 
 " Burgundian, if you please." 
 
 " Burgundian, if you wish, but you must surely have had Vandals 
 among your ancestors ; in fact they were in a way cousins to Burgun- 
 dians — the Vandals ! It's atavism that's playing you a trick ; you 
 a,re troubled with the monomania of revolution, the folly of destruction. 
 Yes, your programme is a very nice one ! With ' all to the sewer ! ' 
 or something similar for motto and nihil for the password. And it is 
 doubtless you, modern Columbus of this world, revised and corrected, 
 who will hold the helm and steer tlie barque ? " 
 
 " I will give you the office if you like."
 
 28 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " To me ! I embark in that galley I Thanks I I have not fomid, 
 as yon have, the formnla of happiness and the way to make use of it, 
 an easy prescription to follow in secret, and even when travelling — 
 shake the bottle before using the contents— for you've bottled it, your 
 social syrup, the universal panacea. They sell it at the chemists' 
 shops, this marvellous elixir — great quack ! But it is you who are 
 the lugubrious mystifier in all this, and you horrify me with your 
 social strata, your famishing poor, yowv cataclysms, and the sequel of 
 your future revolutions. Schopenhauer is mildly gay aside of you ! 
 And you speak of this with a light heart, as of quite a natural thing' 
 that must happen — one can see that it will cost you nothing." 
 
 '' And you ? " 
 
 " And my income — is that nothing ? It would be I then that 
 would dance the carmagnole, engulfed in the furnace." 
 
 " Yes, that's true. Your income — I forgot that I " 
 
 " It's easy enough for you to say so, you, who have your fortune 
 at the tips of your fingers ; but how about me ? " 
 
 " You, my good Onesime ? Well ! you'd do as I do, work. That 
 would be a change in your existence." 
 
 " Me, work I But at what, saperlipopette ? At what ? I ask you, 
 what am I good for ? I, who have never in my life made any use of 
 my ten fingers? Do what? And, besides, I don't want to change 
 my style of life ! The way I live pleases me — and very much too ! I 
 have a weakness for it; I don't want to live in any other way. I have 
 not got St. Vitus's dance. I am not like you, who have quicksilver in 
 the veins ; who can't stay in the same place ; who come, go, think of 
 nothing but changing your quarters ; who are always on the move ; 
 who hold forth in all seasons, at every opportunity, upon everything 
 and against every one, against the Germans this way, against the 
 Italians that way ; now you are against the whole world. Since you 
 have found the bacillus of the social evil, your fixed idea, to cure this 
 poor humanity that doesn't know what to try next, is to upset society 
 head over heels ; you require your little smash-up that was wanting ; 
 you must have your tempest, as in the ancient heroic j)oems, like 
 Homer in the Odyssey and Virgil in the u^^^neid. But, ye Gods ! the
 
 onesime's horror of the cataclysm. 29 
 
 wind does not blow with such force there as it does with you : thev 
 are contented with stirring up the waves on the surface ; you, you are 
 going to shake them uj) from the lowest depths at the risk of bringino- 
 on a deluge." 
 
 " And then— what after ? " 
 
 " "What after ? But I don't know how to swim ! Goodness 
 gracious, what a hurricane I It's enough to give you nausea 1 It's no 
 longer a tempest; it's a water-spout, a cyclone, a simoom, simply some- 
 thing terrible I And then, above all, it's your cataclysm that upsets 
 me ! That monster of a cataclysm gives me the shivers ; that fright- 
 ful cataclysm weighs me down ; it's a veritable sword of Damocles, 
 suspended above my repose ; and if the thread broke, good-nio^ht, mv 
 nice little income ; good-bye, my cosy, comfortable life, my dearly 
 beloved idleness ! The mere thought of it makes my back feel cold. 
 Look here I if you have the least regard for my person, if you have 
 the least bit of friendship for me, you will suppress the cataclysm ; 
 you don't know how the mere idea of that sinister farce makes me 
 nervous ; you can do without it, can't you ? It is not indispensable 
 to you ? You only knew of it recently; you have not had time to get 
 accustomed to it yet. Suppress it, I beg of you. Do that for me I " 
 
 " All right ! I suppress the cataclysm — which is, moreover, very 
 hypothetical — as it is so much in your way, and I will limit myself to 
 my social strata," said Jacques laughing. " Are you satisfied ? " 
 
 " ]\Iore than satisfied; you save my life; thanks I I breathe again 
 with a light heart. But you, wretched being, you must have 
 swallowed a volcano to enter into spontaneous eruption like that ! 
 You have stolen Vesuvius or Stromboli on the way, and have 
 hidden it in your stomach ! You burst out like that, all at once, about 
 nothing. One talks to you, and bang ! you suddenly begin to throw 
 out lava immediately, without a sign of warning ! Vesuvius at least 
 foreshadows his fits of anger by some preliminary indications ; one 
 Jias time to get out of the way. But your crater is treacherous, the 
 exjdosion sudden ; you burst out in a moment ex abrupto, without 
 warning, like a volcano that has been badly brought up. It's wrong I " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, or I'll introduce my cataclysm again."
 
 30 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Ob, no : 1 beg of yon, don't do that. Slioath your cataclysm; I'll 
 hold my tongue." 
 
 " And, before accusing me of having stolen volcanoes on the way, 
 wait until we have first of all met with them. Can the mere prospect 
 of my cataclysm have already upset your brain ? " 
 
 " Alas I the word alone drives me crazy ! "
 
 Vesuvius. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The island of Elba. — Monte Cristo. — Caprera. — Jacques and Onesime conquer 
 the hearts of the sailors of the Sa'icl — Naples. — More about the intimate and 
 personal emotions of the Cookites. — The deck is invaded. — A study of muscles. 
 — Native concerts. — The stenches of Naples. — Italy sells her family souvenirs. 
 — Stromboli. — Charybdis and Scylla. — Mount Etna. — Onesime becomes gloomy. 
 — " Us "' at the piano : prodigiou.s success. — Friendly and saltatory jollification. 
 — General reconciliation ; gaiety everywhere. — Sunset. — Alexandria ! 
 
 " rriHE island of Elba iu sight," exclaimed a sailor. " The island 
 -L of Elba," repeated a mocking voice : " an island where 
 generals of Corsican origin who make themselves emperors are de- 
 posited on a model farm. They pass their leisure in teaching such 
 of their soldiers as show an aptitude for country life farming — 
 escape is easy." 
 
 Passing by Monte Cristo, Jacques, who was still a prey to his 
 geographical attack, insinuated that it had been discovered by 
 Alexander Dumas, who had found in a cavern there the material 
 for a great romance, which was as interesting as the island itself 
 is the reverse. 
 
 They had reached the straits of Bonifacio. A little beyond 
 the promontory of the Bear they i)erceived a white house, half-way 
 up the heights on the island of Caprera, the house of the hero of 
 
 31
 
 32 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 ■f 
 
 ^ 
 
 Italian independence, a rock ujwn which, according to Jacques, 
 -, Garibaldi had chosen to end his legend. 
 
 He had conquered the hearts of the 
 sailors, had Jacques, as had also the 
 good Onesime. If the baronet was the star 
 of the poop, Jacques was the sun of the 
 forecastle, and Onesime was its moon. The 
 frank and communicative gaiety of the two 
 friends made them very 2)opular with the 
 sailors, whom they were always putting in 
 a good humour. 
 
 On the fir'st day Onesime, under the 
 
 ■'^^5$;^^ 
 
 
 ^?^. 
 
 " It's the men's plank." 
 
 influence of a maritime emotion, as in- 
 
 ^ voluntary as it was painful to his heart, had 
 
 liad the weakness in a more than usually 
 
 violent attack to sigh after " the cow's plank." Here, " It's the men's
 
 NAPLES. 
 
 33 
 
 plank ! " a sailor who happened to be passing that way coarsely 
 blurted out in his face. 
 
 Jacques' stomach was above every species of emotion of that 
 sort, a quality that was far from injuring him in the estimation 
 of his rough audience. 
 
 The Gulf of Nai; 
 
 The next day they awoke in view of the Roman country : a 
 naked, desolate coast, here and there ruined towers, rare miserable 
 villages ; facing the mouth of the Til)er and the little port of 
 Fiumicino, a luminous white spot, the cupola of St. Peter of Rome,
 
 34 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 shines far out in the couutiy. The coast continues low and sad, 
 broken from time to time by the Albano and Velletri moantaius, 
 which dominate Mount Calvi. They pass Porto d'Anzio, Nettuuo, 
 the Pontine Marshes, the abrupt promontory of Mount Circello — 
 and, suddenly, there is a complete change. It is nothing but 
 charming, coquettish, wooded hills, gently sloping towards the sea : 
 this is the beautiful Neapolitan shore unrolling, before the en- 
 chanted eyes of the travellers, the treasures of its rich and splendid 
 
 Cook and Son's parcels. 
 
 nature. They skirt the gulfs Terracina and Gaeta, the miniature 
 archipelago of Palrnarola, Ponza, and Yandolena, the island of 
 Procida, Cape Miseno, and, amidst a glorious sun, the vessel makes 
 her entry into the Gulf of Naples. Leaving Pozzuoli, the Castle 
 of Baia, the island of Nisida on the right, she coasts by Posilip^jo, 
 and Naples appears — radiant ! 
 
 Capri I Ischia ! Adorable guardians of an admirable bay, at 
 the head of which, sparkling with light, sprinkled with touches 
 of pink, blue, yellow, green, drowned in an immense warm tone of
 
 INTIMATE AND PERSONAL EMOTIONS OF THE COOKITES. 
 
 35 
 
 melted silver, a white city rises up iu tiers, casting its clear, Inminous 
 reflection in the azure of the bay ! 
 
 Indifferent to the dull growling of Vesuvius, whose sombre 
 silhouette, crowned with its smoking plume, shows its profile, a 
 terrible menace, beneath a leaden sky, Xaples reposes unconcerned 
 at the feet of her colossal neighbour, a rough companion who, one 
 of these days, will dash her to pieces as he did Herculaneum and 
 Pompeii ! 
 
 AVhat a lot of personal, intimate emotions were extracted from 
 the guide-books, and were transferred compendiously 
 to the note-books, on that memorable day, when the 
 Said having triumphantly doubled the last promontory, 
 this vision, sublime in its pro- 
 digious grandeur, in its exquisite 
 grace, marvellous in beauty and 
 charm, api)eared before the dull 
 passengers, incapable of 
 transmitting to the brain, 
 mercilessly closed to a 
 perception of the beau- 
 tiful, sensations that they could 
 not feel ! 
 
 They wrote in an unsteady 
 hand, the better to convey the 
 full strength of the emotion 
 experienced. A series of dots 
 indicated it incommensurably ; 
 notes of exclamation accentuated 
 it, and commas gave it a colouring. 
 
 And when, later on, they read it for the hundredth time to friends 
 who were fortunate enough to enjoy the ineffable happiness, they 
 introduced into their diction the shaky aspect of the up-strokes, the 
 vigorous intonations of the notes of exclamation, the shaded har- 
 monies of commas indicated in the text : in the sonority of the 
 consonants, in the vigour of the syllables, thundered the anger of 
 
 Reiiding his impressions.
 
 36 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the volcano; in the softness of the vowels one canght sight of the 
 jileasant Neaiwlitau horizons ; in the countenance and expression of 
 the orator one imagined violent, but restrained, vibrations. And when 
 his voice slowly died away in a final earnest accent, it was very rare 
 not to perceive a few politely flattering tears form pearls on the eye- 
 lashes of the audience, 
 none the less in earnest, 
 a satisfaction expected, 
 and deserved by the 
 author, who, very much 
 affected, wiped his fore- 
 head that was bathed 
 in perspiration. 
 
 At two o'clock the 
 Said stopped, almost 
 alongside the quay. The 
 vessel had hardly been 
 secured in her berth, 
 when a host of j^etty 
 dealers invaded the deck, 
 while a flotilla of boats, 
 painted all sorts of 
 colours and of strange 
 forms, swarmed along 
 the huge sides of the 
 steamer. From these 
 craft adults with 
 bronzed bodies, clothed 
 with a simple medal 
 suspended round their necks, elegant in form, with supple muscles 
 and boldly outlined heads, rose erect, beautiful as antique statues, 
 of which they unconsciously assumed the attitudes. They dived, being 
 the most expert and indefatigable swimmers, after small jneces of 
 money, which the passengers on deck threw for them into the sea. 
 Disappearing in the blue waters beneath the vessel's keel, they re- 
 
 Indigenous music.
 
 NATIVE COXCEETS STENCHES OF NAPLES. 
 
 37 
 
 
 appeared on the other side, smiling and showing teeth of pearly 
 whiteness, like famished young wolves, exhibiting in one hand the coin 
 they had found and begging again with the other. 
 
 " Lovely models," said Jacfpies ; " a har- 
 mony of muscles on which they have forgotten 
 to place an encephalon." 
 
 "Well-shaped idiots," corroborated Onesime. 
 
 From other boats arose sharp, nasal 
 sounds, singing with accompani- 
 ment of cracked guitars and -^^ 
 screeching violins. The passengers 
 were literally enveloped in har- 
 mony ; it entered by the nose, eyes, 
 ears, mouth — everywhere I 
 
 Unfortunately the town sewers 
 were perceptible ; and to the suffering 
 of the acoustic nerve, frightfully 
 knocked about by the native caco- 
 phony, was joined the painful sense 
 of the grievously affected 
 olfactory apparatus. 
 
 In the meanwhile the chat-J^ 
 teriug hawkers had displayed ^- 
 their curiosities from Pompeii 
 and Herculaneum : pieces of mosaic 
 and a lamp from the abode of the 
 Vestal Virgins ; the marble umbilicus 
 from a statue of Vitellius ; the skin 
 of Cleopatra's asp ; a piece of the woodwork of the seat on which 
 Heliogabalus received the fatal blow ; a photograph of Nero ; one of 
 Caligula's horse-shoes ; Cicero's wart. You could see a lock of Cc^sar's 
 hair there, the toothpick of Lucullus ; the latch-key of Messalina, 
 which enabled her to escape at night-time from the Imperial Palace and 
 visit the slums of Eome, from which she returned — 
 " Jam lassata viris, sed non satiata ! " 
 
 The odours of Xaples.
 
 38 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 The razor with which Cato, the Stoic, opened his veins, was also 
 offered for sale. 
 
 All these were guaranteed authentic ; one could even order an 
 antiquity to measure at choice — and still authentic ! Italy was empty- 
 ing her drawers of family souvenirs ; she was trying to realise a few 
 little things to pay for a monster cannon that was being manufactured. 
 She wanted to make a stir in the world. Children are so noisy ! 
 
 In the way of modern articles Vesuvius and the sea supplied them 
 all, and the inhabitants of Torre del Greco brought their curiously 
 worked pieces of lava and their deftly carved coral. Chaplets made 
 
 Torre del Greco. 
 
 of myrtle, olive, and box-wood, with enormous beads, attracted the 
 attention of the pious. Beside these, grotesque coloured prints had the 
 pretension of representing the venerable features of the successor of 
 the Apostles. 
 
 Reptilius purchased Messalina's latch-key ; the young ladies rifled 
 the vendors of necklaces ; the "parcels" crammed their portmanteaux 
 with Vesuvian souvenirs ; the horse-shoe became the property of a 
 superstitious Englisliman ; the Italians abstained— and with reason. 
 
 A shrill whistle conveyed the order to clear the deck, and the 
 noisy crowd rapidly made off, relieved of a good part of their second-
 
 STEOMBOLI CHARYBDIS AND SCYLLA. 
 
 39 
 
 liaud pacotilla ; tlie concert -boats widened the circle, carrying along 
 with tliem their noisy harmony, while the Said, slowly turning round, 
 set her bow towards Sorrento. 
 
 They had at last got rid of the stenches of Najiles, of its lazzaroni, 
 of its false antiquities, of the nasal accentuations of that tongue, so 
 sonorous because it is so empty. 
 
 Passing between the promontory of Campanella and the island of 
 Capri, the vessel stood ont to sea, leaving smoking Vesuvius behind 
 her, and on her left the deep gulfs of Salerno and Amalfi. 
 
 The shades of night were falling when the Said entered that 
 admirable Tyrrhene Sea, dear to Homer and Virgil. Continuing her 
 
 nocturnal course, slie doubled Cape Spartivento, crossed the Policastro 
 Gulf, and jjassed by the Calabrian Mountains, and farther on Stromboli, 
 that old accomplice of Vesuvius, which on dark nights lights up the 
 Lipari Islands with its sinister glare. 
 
 Once within the Gulf of Gioja, they passed Cape Faro, leaving 
 on either side the famous and inoffensive rocks of Charybdis and 
 Scylla. At noon they passed through the Straits of Messina, at 
 the moment of the second breakfast, and through the open port-holes 
 they distinctly perceived the wild, denuded, and sunny coast of 
 Calabria, where the train from Reggio follows the coast-line, and 
 the shore of luxuriant Sicily, extending on the right, with its rich 
 vegetation, its picturesque mountains, dominated by colossal Etna,
 
 40 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 with its snowy peaks, its sides striped by its streams of black and 
 red lava, descending as far as the vineyards which cover its base to 
 the sea, where slender Maltese speronari, with only one mast, glide 
 by on the surface of the water. 
 
 When Cape Spartivento was rounded, they passed into the Ionian 
 Sea, and this time the steamer's head was set direct for Alexandria. 
 
 The sea was hopelessly beautiful, the sky 
 hopelessly lovely ; hours succeeded hours. 
 The passengers, momentarily galvanised by 
 the meal-bell, returned immediately after- 
 wards to their torpor of lizards, their im- 
 mobility of fossils petrified in thick layers 
 of boredom. 
 
 Jacques thought the sea very beautiful, 
 but also very blue. Onesime had been 
 sulking in a corner since they had lost 
 sight of land ; he felt something like a 
 commencement of nostalgia, he regretted 
 his cheese ! He was wondering how much 
 longer they were going* to navigate that 
 basin of blue water, beneath that blue sky 
 and invariably lovely sun, in the company 
 of that band of coagulated dozers on 
 deck. His round, hirsute little j^erson was 
 bristling all over ; he was quietly changing 
 into a porcupine. 
 
 A few gusts of mad notes, a few measures of a quadrille they 
 were playing in the saloon, snatched him from his melancholy 
 thoughts and his corner ; he directed his steps towards the performer, 
 a Frenchman, who was endeavouring to stir the venerable chords of 
 the vessel's Pleyel, which by a miracle was in good condition. 
 
 This unusual sound acted as an antidote to the general discomfort. 
 A slight rustle of gowns indicated that the feminine element was 
 showing signs of life ; a few inquisitive heads appeared at the open 
 windows ; some daring ones had the audacity to enter. 
 
 Onesime has the spleen.
 
 us AT THE PIANO. 
 
 41 
 
 Reptilius bad been one of tbe first to dasb in tbere. He had 
 walked, or ratber fallen, into tbe saloon like a bomb. As soon as 
 tbe music-stool was free, be bounded on to it and screwed himself 
 down there, fatiguing the instrument beneath a febrile, 
 rapid, masterly touch. 
 
 Seen from behind, be resembled a 
 gigantic coleopteron : bis enormous round 
 back was shining in shades of black, 
 glossy, worn at tbe shoulders, of his 
 garment ; the long skirts of bis frock- 
 coat, bis i^ockets swelled with 
 books and rolls of papers, beat a 
 wild saraband on his immense 
 feet, which crushed tbe tremb- 
 ling pedals. At times his head 
 all at once disappeared between 
 his two shoulders, and the 
 nose, coming to the assist- 
 ance of the busy fingers, 
 struck a difficult note. The 
 rapidity of his movements 
 seemed to multiply his 
 arms, giving them the 
 appearance of monstrous 
 moving antennae ; one 
 would have said it Avas an 
 enormous cockchafer, af- ^ 
 fected with melomania, 
 improvising. 
 
 " Us " was a capital virtuoso ; 
 the effect was anexpected, the 
 success prodigious, mingled with a little anxiety on the i)art of tbe 
 young misses, rather frightened at first at tbe strange contortions of this 
 musical beetle, and on tbe male side by a little stifled laughter excited 
 by tbe performer's peculiar movements. He met, nevertheless, with 
 
 Us ' at the i ianu.
 
 49, 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 ■^''/ 
 
 complete success. " Us " could legitimately enjoy bis triumph. His 
 I)ale lips, with white commissures, trembled iu his wrinkled face ; 
 bis eyes sparkled behind the blue glasses of his gold-rimmed 
 spectacles ; his rare grey locks at the nape of the neck fluttered; his 
 scarlet nasal bulb, bruised by contact with the keys of the piano, 
 seemed to emit sheaves of sparks; while a warm vapour of perspiration, 
 produced by this gymnastic exercise of the muscles, this violent 
 
 excitement of the nerves, escaped from 
 . I ' his whole person, enveloping him in a 
 cloud which hid him from the profane. 
 All of a sudden, during a waltz 
 briskly engaged in by the Doctor, 
 Onesime, who for some time j^revious, 
 with sparkling eyes, beating time with 
 his head and imitating the 
 barytone in a low voice, had 
 felt a terrible itching in his 
 legs, seized upon an old 
 sj^iuster — who, while offering 
 some outward show of resist- 
 ance, at the same time clung 
 to him with all her might — 
 and impetuously dashed off 
 with her. 
 
 Then it was as if a dis- 
 charge of electricity had com- 
 municated its shock to all 
 the com2)any. Couples were 
 formed ; started, they spun round and round, engulfed in this mael- 
 strom of human waves, the wliirling evolutions of which were scanned 
 by the bewildered " Us " with a frenzy that increased as he proceeded. 
 Vires acquirit eitndo ! 
 
 Little by little this moving chain stopped, as its detached links 
 sank panting on tlie divans. Then there was a noise like a hasty 
 flapping of wings, jjroduced by nervously handled fans ; one heard 
 
 Onesiuie and Jliss PiisciJla.
 
 GENEEAL KECONCILIATION — GAIETY EVEEY^'HEEE. 43 
 
 the hoarse sound of breathless respiration ; multi-coloured hand- 
 kerchiefs wiped foreheads bathed in perspiration ; a muggish human 
 smell, mingled with the odour of more subtle perfumes, escaped 
 by the oj)en portholes, while the terrible Doctor continued, continued 
 playing still I 
 
 This musical tide, which had borne along in its furious course all 
 these different elements, all these antagonistic molecules, had left 
 them, on retiring, strangely grouped. 
 
 Onesime, while mopping himself at one of the ports, had commenced 
 an idyl with his dancer, Miss Priscilla, who gave herself precious airs, 
 contented that the brick-coloured red tint which the excitement of 
 dancing had brought to the slightly tanned leather of her cheeks 
 should be mistaken for respectable modesty on the alert. 
 
 Cook and Son's parcels were mixed up with the unlabelled English 
 people without the latter making any effort to get away ; they even 
 exchanged smiles, and more than that, they conversed affably together. 
 
 The baronet, who had left his cloud in the cloak-room, was talking 
 to Jacques, who had just conducted Miss Madge, his daughter, to 
 her seat. 
 
 Italians and Frenchmen offered each other cigars and took 
 refreshments at the same bar. 
 
 The Spaniard chuckled inwardly and went in search of his guitar. 
 
 Jonathan, in his delight and in his mania for whittling wood, had 
 ended by cutting away the legs of his chair — which was breaking 
 beneath him. 
 
 The Russian shook off his last icicles. 
 
 The ice was broken everywhere ; all the rancour, all the anti- 
 pathies, melted in this salubrious thaw. 
 
 In the evening they dined with peculiar gaiety and glee. The 
 shock had mingled all these heterogeneous genera together to form 
 one unique species, well determined not to lose an opportunity for 
 amusement ; a little music, a small hop, had performed this miracle, 
 by rounding off the angles. 
 
 The days following comprised an uninterrupted series of pleasant 
 moments. Onesime forgot his cheese, Jacques showed a tendency
 
 41 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 to draw near to Sir Hugh Templeton, the baronet, especially when 
 Miss Madge was beside him ; concessions on all sides rained as thick 
 as hailstones; the " nnlabelled " diffused tepid confidences into the 
 bosoms of the Cookites, half confessing that an excess of vanity had 
 largely contributed towards making them turn aside from the seductive 
 advantages offered by Cook and Son ; and the Cookites, gently flattered 
 by this confession, regretted that their purses had not been equal 
 to their desire, so as to enable them to travel in as noble and 
 independent a way as the others. The baronet behaved as a simple 
 mortal with Jacques, who, in Miss Madge's company, learned to 
 correct his imperfect English pronunciation. The Spaniard, who had 
 ended by finding his guitar, put all his gaiety into music. Jonathan, 
 in quest of a new chair to annihilate, extended his limbs in a silent 
 laugh. Italy smiled at France, and the latter, while pouting at 
 Germany, behaved fairly decently towards her sole re2)resentative on 
 board. 
 
 The Sa'id had left Candia far on the left ; another day and they 
 would be in sight of Alexandria. 
 
 One felt the East in the splendid warm tones of the sunsets, where 
 the purple clouds, striated with gold, wav^ed to and fro, marvellous 
 in colour, beneath the immense canopy of heaven, the green of which 
 merged at the zenith into infinite dark blue. 
 
 Jacques stood for hours leaning on his elbows, silent, in profound 
 enjoyment of these grand views ; and when the enormous blood-like 
 disc, descending slowly to the horizon, at last sank with a final beam 
 in the mighty amplitude of its glory, he still remained there watching 
 the shades of night advance from afar, lost in his rambling thoughts. 
 
 Onesime was astonished at this profound, mute, contemplative, 
 almost painful admiration, he who expressed it loquaciously, diffusely, 
 epidermidally. 
 
 On October 10th, at noon, they sighted land. The commotion was 
 general. Attention was eagerly concentrated on the coast in view, 
 which at every instant became more distinct. 
 
 A long, low, grey line of alluvial earth just emerges out of the sea : 
 in the centre is the twinkling glass dome of the Viceroy's palace ^
 
 ALEXANDEIA. 
 
 45 
 
 farther oa Pompey's Pillar shoots up isolated, high, dark, dominating 
 a few slender minarets that rise above pink, white, dusty-looking 
 houses ; a few scanty palm trees, numerous windmills ; to the east 
 Ramleh, lost in a few tufts of green ; and in the background, to the 
 west, a great even white line — the Libyan desert. It is Alexandria, 
 it is the decayed city of the Ptolemies. 
 
 A boat comes alongside, a pilot climbs on board. A few more 
 turns of the screw, and the Said, passing through the difficult channels 
 at the entrance to the port, casts her anchor in the midst of a swarm 
 of boats that immediately surround her, and whose strange crews, 
 prattling and noisy, swarm over tlie deck like a cloud of locusts.
 
 The port of Alexandria. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 General hustle. — They land. — Onesime, a Count in spite of himself, and Jacques, 
 very much puzzled, are conducted to the hotel. — Double explanation.^ — 
 Jacques is convinced of the excellent quality of Nile water. — They make 
 the acquaintance of Doctor Alan Keradec. — Satisfaction, disappointment, 
 and anger of Eeptilius. — Rough sketch of history. — Jacques makes an 
 error in a page and " Us " in a volume. — Two erudites fall out. — Onesime 
 is devoured by mosquitoes. 
 
 AMIDST a most frightful uproar the motley crowd invade the 
 deck. As nimble as monkej's, they appear on all sides, 
 penetrate by the portholes, disappear down the hatchways, ascend the 
 rigging, climbing over one another, crushing the passengers, laughing, 
 yelling, vociferating, gesticulating, catching hold of everything that 
 comes within their reach. It is a general hustle ! 
 
 The deck is in frightfnl confusion ; the noise, the agitation, the 
 guttural cries, the variety of strange costumes, of crude colours, 
 the infinite diversity of types, quite dazzle the astounded travellers. 
 
 Jacques, seated on his luggage, stoutly defends it against the 
 attack of a great devil of a negro who insists on removing it. As 
 an artist he admires the energetic and bestial head, with dull ebony 
 shades, beneath a red cap with a blue tuft ; the form of an athlete, 
 with muscles jutting out from beneath the white gandourah that 
 
 46
 
 ONESIME A COUNT IN SPITE OF HIMSELF. 47 
 
 covers tliem ; but as a prudent traveller lie fears that the safety 
 of his trunks ■would be very much compromised in such liands. 
 
 At this moment Onesime, who had disappeared, returns, flanked 
 by a magnificent blue Kawas, the scimitar at his side, who bows 
 to Jacques and has the luggage removed, himself carrying the port- 
 manteaux. He shows the greatest respect to Onesime, whom he 
 calls Monsieur le Comte ; and he installs the two friends on crimson 
 velvet seats, in the stern of a superb galley carrying the French 
 flag, covered with a red and white awning, and which, vigorously 
 propelled by six oars, proceeds rapidly towards the custom-house. 
 
 On the way they cross a correct-looking craft flying the British 
 flag, and recognise Sir Hugh and Miss Madge, with whom they 
 exchange bows. The boat comes alongside the quay ; two sturdy 
 fellows in yellow gowns remove the luggage, while the blue Kawas 
 caresses with his courbash the backs of some rather too inquisitive 
 urchins, bawling themselves hoarse with repeated demands for bak- 
 sheesh. At a word which he utters as he passes by the custom- 
 house, officers raise the hand to the tarboush, and, without examining 
 the trunks, hasten to open the gates. 
 
 Onesime, sedate and sardonic, Jacques, very much perplexed, 
 pass through the stirring crowd of clerks, jjorters, beggars, in the 
 midst of trunks caved-in, turned topsy-turvy, by the ruthless hands 
 of the custom-house officers, and depart under the eyes of such of 
 their unfortunate fellow-passengers of the Said as had preceded 
 them. At the gate their amiable guide calls a private carriage 
 that is waiting, and they seat themselves in it amidst deafening 
 cries, in which the word •' baksheesh," yelled by sonorous voices, 
 predominates. 
 
 The man with the scimitar, erect at the door, inquires if Monsieur 
 le Comte still intends putting up at the Hotel d'Europe, and, on 
 an affirmative sign from Onesime, installs himself beside the coach- 
 man ; the lash curls round the horses, two superb thoroughbreds, 
 which start ofi" at a smart trot, and the two friends, embedded in 
 the soft cushions, make their entry into the city. 
 
 During their rapid drive they barely have time to cast a glance
 
 48 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 at tlie narrow streets throngli Iwhicli they pass, aud which are en- 
 cumbered by an active popnhition of diverse races in bright costumes 
 that shine in the sun. Onesime does not breathe a word, but smiles 
 from time to time in his thick black beard in answer to Jacques' 
 mute interrogations and bewildered air. 
 
 A moment later they passed before the Mosque of Sheikh Ibrahim, 
 and, turning to the left in Anastasy Street, came out on the Place 
 des Consuls, where the coachman put them down at the Hotel 
 d'Europe. 
 
 The serviceable Kawas rushed to the door, which he opened, and, 
 preceding the travellers, led them into the vast hall of the hotel ; 
 then he approached Ondsime smiling, and placed his hand on a level 
 with his tarboush, a quite discreet way of saying baksheesh without 
 opening the mouth. Onesime understood, and the worthy personage 
 withdrew satisfied. 
 
 The two friends chose their apartments, and then went down to 
 the drawing-room, where Onesime burst into a wild roar of laughter 
 in Jacques' face, who, finally joining in this contagious hilarity, also 
 burst out laughing. 
 
 " Look here, Monsieur le Comte," Jacques began, " would you 
 kindly ex])lain to me the mystery of " 
 
 "Of all this, eh?" interrupted Onesime. 
 
 " Yes ; for I understand absolutely nothing." 
 
 " Neither do I ; and the more I seek to fathom it, the less I 
 understand." 
 
 " Explain yourself." 
 
 " I will endeavour to do so. You remember that I left you for 
 an instant on deck, during the confusion on our arrival, to fetch my 
 bag downstairs ? " 
 
 " Yes. And then ? " 
 
 " Well, while returning, I knock up against our blue bird of a 
 Kawas, who bows to me very low, and whose bow I return, but a little 
 less lowly, however. ' Monsieur le Comte,' he says to me, in that 
 frightful jargon which is termed lingua, franca, and the vocabulary 
 of which has been borrowed, in a measure, from all known languages,
 
 ONESIME EXPLAINS. 
 
 49 
 
 dead and living, ' I was seeking for your Lordship.' I look at liiiu 
 angrily, thinking that h'e is making fun of me. Not in the least ! 
 And he adds very seriously : ' Your boat is waiting for you, Monsieur 
 le Comte ; if your Grace will show me where your luggage is, I will 
 have it landed ' ; and he seeks to relieve me of my bag, with which I 
 
 refuse to part. I reply to him that 
 I am neither Count nor Lordship, 
 nor anything approaching it ; that 
 I am simply Onesime Coquillard, of 
 Paris, independent gentleman and 
 a bachelor : that no boat is waiting 
 for me ; that I am even looking out for one at that moment ; and, 
 I add, endeavouring to get away, that he must certainly be in 
 error. ' I see that your Highness wishes to remain incognito,' he 
 says with a sly smile, ' but I have my orders.' And he insists 
 more than ever ; I do not laugh, and insist on my side ; we both 
 insist ; his obstinacy has the best of it ; he is determined I shall be 
 Monsieur le Comte. Count who ? Count of what ? I will try 
 to find out. Tired of the discussion, I let him do as he likes. I 
 
 4
 
 50 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 allow myself to be bombarded Highness ; he seizes my bag, I join 
 you on deck, and find you struggling with your black man ; you 
 follow quite bewildered, we jump into the boat, the French flag at 
 the stern ; our guide makes the custom-house officers, who should 
 have searched us, bow to us, seats us in a carriage, brings us here, and 
 disappears ! Now you know as much as I do." 
 
 " It's a regular tale of the ' Arabian Nights.' " 
 
 " With this difference, that it's absolutely true, and that here 
 we are saved from the claws of the custom-house, in which our 
 unfortunate companions are probably still struggling." 
 
 Onesime had hardly concluded his story, which he had related 
 without stopping, and in a loud voice, when an elderly gentleman, 
 of eccentric appearance, who had been listening to him with a smile, 
 approached politely. 
 
 " You will pardon me, gentlemen, the disj)lay of curiosity that 
 made me stay and listen to the account of your adventure ; my excuse 
 will be that I was indirectly mixed up in it myself. If you will allow 
 me, I will clear up the mystery in a few words." 
 
 Jacques and Onesime bowed. The elderly gentleman continued : — 
 
 " My friend. Count de M , attached to the French Consulate, 
 
 was expected to-day by the Said; the janissary on duty, whom you 
 mistook for a Kawas, had been sent to meet him ; the Count had 
 remained in his cabin to avoid the crowd on deck ; the description 
 of my friend tallies sufficiently with yours, sir " (and he looked at 
 Onesime), " for the janissary, the blue bird, as you have very wittily 
 termed him, to have mistaken you for him ; he did not understand a 
 single word of what you said to him, and acted up to the letter of his 
 instructions. You were allowed to pass without having your luggage 
 examined, thanks to the immunity enjoyed in such matters by members 
 of the Consulate body. And that, gentlemen, is the very simple 
 explanation of an abduction which I see has not been attended by 
 any very disagreeable consequences." 
 
 " On the contrary," said One'sime. 
 
 " I am all the more pleased as you were thus spared the delay and 
 annoyance that have been the lot of your less fortunate companions ."
 
 DOCTOR ALAN KERADEC. 51 
 
 " I regret it profoundly," answered Jacques, " and I beg you to 
 excuse us, for this foolish prank of schoolboys out for a holiday 
 must have left your friend in a sad predicament." 
 
 " Not in the least, gentlemen. First of all, you gave way to force, 
 which frees you from all responsibility ; I will now add, to set your 
 consciences quite at ease, that the Captain of the Said at once placed 
 
 a boat at the service of Count de M ; I was awaiting him at 
 
 the custom-house, which you had no doubt left just before 1 arrived 
 — behind time, in accordance with my praiseworthy habit — and we 
 have been here some minutes. You have therefore nothing to reproach 
 
 yourselves witli, beyond a slight delay caused to Count de M , which 
 
 enabled me to be exact at a rendezvous for once in my life, for which 
 I feel very grateful. I am happy that this quid pro quo, which has 
 been of some service to you, without having caused my friend any 
 serious inconvenience, has procured me the pleasure of making your 
 acquaintance " ; and handing his card to the young men, he took 
 theirs, and they cordially shook hands. 
 
 Then proceeding all three to the dining-room, they found Count de 
 
 M , to whom the old gentleman introduced his new acquaintances. 
 
 They all laughed a great deal at the janissary's mistake ; and after 
 dinner, at which Jacques had the proof that Xile water was an 
 excellent beverage, and fresh dates a feast worthy of the gods, they 
 met again in the smoking-room, where a little later on Doctor 
 Reptilius and a few other passengers of the Said, who had also jnit 
 up at the Hotel d'Enrope, joined them. 
 
 Some installed themselves on the large divans, others placed their 
 chairs on the balcony ; and amidst the smoke of pipes, cigars, and 
 cigarettes conversation soon became general. 
 
 The old gentleman whom chance had thrown in the path of the 
 two friends was Doctor Alan Keradec, a good doctor, an Egyptologist 
 of distinction. He had come straight from Syria, after having made 
 fruitful researches in the field of science, attracted by the renown 
 of the discovery that Maspe'ro had just made at Deir-el-Bahari 
 in the plain of Thebes, where he had found intact the sarcophagi 
 of several Pharaohs, that of the great Sesostris among others.
 
 52 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 He intended setting out again shortly to visit Upper Egypt, where 
 he hoped to unearth something, if it were only the error of a 
 fellow- labourer. 
 
 He was a native of Brittany, a " Breton hretonnant " ; medium in 
 height, broad-shouldered; the head was roughly accentuated — ^volumin- 
 ous at the top, thin at the bottom ; the forehead was vast, prominent ; 
 green eyes with dilated pupils sprinkled with gold S2)angles, large, 
 luminous, of a profound softness, gleamed in the hollow of their dark 
 sockets, surmounted by thick powerful eyebrows. The visage of a 
 
 tamed anchorite, which extreme 
 pallor had made livid, sometimes 
 coloured with a passing hectic flush, 
 with an expressive physiognomy fur- 
 rowed by numerous deep wrinkles, 
 where a network of bluish veins 
 showed up in relief near the 
 temples, was overhung with a big, 
 unkempt, thick, black, grey- 
 besprinkled maze of hair and beard. 
 White, sharp, regular teeth shone in 
 this forest of hair. The arms were 
 too long for the body ; the chest 
 bulged very much forward, the back 
 was flat ; the legs were slender ; 
 life had taken up its abode in the 
 upper regions. 
 
 A tall silk hat of a mature age, 
 and of reddish-brown tint, covered his enormous head. Whether he 
 was searching the i)lains of Syria, crossing the deserts of Arabia, or 
 penetrating among the sepulchres of the Valley of Kings, that hat 
 never left him, immutable on his bushy skull like the pschent on the 
 heads of the Pharaohs, engraven on the pylons of Karnac. The 
 correlative part of his attire fostered, perhaps, the beneficent warmth 
 which, fertilising his brain, incubated the embryonic egg of his 
 thought, and gave birth to his ideas. He might forget his friends, 
 
 Doctor Alau Keradec.
 
 DOCTOR ALAN KERADEC. 
 
 53 
 
 he never forgot bis liat ! The latter might leave him, he never left it ! 
 A creased frock-coat, always hermetically closed, enveloped his angular 
 body and fell in pleats on his heron-like legs. The care that he gave 
 to study prevented him from devoting sufficient to his person, which, 
 in the result, was considerably neglected. 
 
 His erudition was great : he was an excellent dictionary badly bound, 
 somewhat diffuse, which one might consult 
 at any moment. A very good fellow at I 
 heart, who would step aside 
 rather than crush a worm. 
 
 Jacques, who had mono- 
 polised him, was already turn- 
 ing over the pages. Answers 
 followed questions, rapid, 
 exact, with a neatness of 
 elocution, a happiness of 
 exjn-ession, a liveliness of 
 description, that were as- 
 tonishing. The former did 
 not cease making inquiries, 
 the latter giving information, 
 to the great satisfaction of 
 both parties. 
 
 Reptilius, sniffing a redoubtable 
 rival in this encyclopaedia on two legs, had glided 
 surreptitiously into the discussion, opposing ob- 
 jections to the risky hypotheses, the contestable 
 affirmations, the historical facts, more correct in 
 appearance than in reality, of the terrible Armorican, who refuted 
 him with charming freedom. 
 
 " Us," wishing to crush his adversary, dashed into a cumbrous and 
 heavy compilation of facts, dates, anecdotes, witli the pretension to 
 sum up the history of the greatness and fall of the ancient capital 
 of Egypt. It was like a paving-stone launched amidst the audience. 
 When he had come to an end, Onesime was fast asleep, insensible to 
 
 Onesime fast asleep.
 
 54 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the repeated bites that a mosquito was impudently treating himself 
 to on his nose ; the other persons who had been amused at the slight 
 skirmishes between Jacques and the old Breton had prudently fled 
 before this charge of heavy German cavalry, which had crushed poor 
 old Coquillard. 
 
 Alan Keradec and his young friend applauded at the end of 
 the tiresome dissertation. Surprised by the unforeseen attack, they 
 had had to have recourse to all their patience to listen to the end, 
 to all their politeness to suppress the yawning that overjiowered 
 them. 
 
 " Us," mistaking the fatigue caused by his indigestible dose for 
 the discouragement of defeat, dissembled his immoderate vanity 
 beneath feigned moderation ; he wiped the glasses of his spectacles, 
 giving himself the airs of an old coquette, cackling quietly with satis- 
 faction, assuming the aspect of a turkey strutting about with his tail 
 spread out. At length, intoxicated by what he believed to be his 
 success, encouraged by the silence of his audience, his conceit over- 
 flowed ; he sought to force out the compliments that did not come 
 fast enough to please him. 
 
 " I tink, sentlemen," said he, with his head high, the nose 
 forward, the nostrils dilated, the lip disdainful, his arms crossed 
 behind his back, propped up on his skinny legs, with an air that 
 bordered on impertinence, " I tink, sentlemen, it vood have been 
 tifficult to have said as much in feuver vords ? " 
 
 " Or in more barbarous language," thought Jacques, in petto, 
 horrified at Reptilius's frightful Teutonic accent. 
 
 " You forget, with laudable modesty, to add, ' and so well,' " 
 punctuated Keradec. '' I rejiair that omission." 
 
 " I so much tislike speaking of myself," said Reptilius, fluttering 
 beneath the compliment, " dat I ofden forget to to myself chustice. 
 This ridigulous modesty vill pee my ruin. Yes, my tear tocdor, you 
 have said zo, and I repead it, aldough plushing : ' as much in feuver 
 vords and zo veil 1 ' As you insist." 
 
 " Ah ! " observed Jacques. 
 
 " Is not dat your opinion ? " replied " Us," alarmed at this
 
 DISAPPOINTMENT AND ANGER OF EEPTILIUS. 
 
 55 
 
 dubitative exclamation of the enemy, whom he had thought vanquished 
 by his brilliant charge. 
 
 " What you have just set forth is no doubt very good," answered 
 Jacques drily, provoked by the hypocritical ingenuousness and the 
 extreme sufficiency of the Teuton, " but also very long ; I think it 
 migfht have been said more conciselv." 
 
 " And one might even," let fly Ke'radec, coming to his support, 
 *' have said much more in fewer words." i 
 
 " And much petter, eh, Tocdeur Gueratec ? " 
 hissed Reptilius between his closed teeth, 
 making a bitter allusion to the " so well " 
 with which the Doctor had so pleasantly 
 caressed his epidermis a minute before. 
 
 " Oh, I don't say that." 
 
 " You limit yourself to tinking it ; I am 
 opliged to you for stopping tere." 
 
 " There is no need to be." 
 
 " But, yes, tere is — stopping on such a 
 peautiful road ! " 
 
 " I have always known when to stop in time, 
 Mr. Reptilius." 
 
 " Us " bit his lips. The shaft had gone home ; 
 he was struck with consternation, plucked of all 
 his illusions ; his adversaries, far from having been Reptuius biting his ups. 
 brought to earth, were making fun of him to his 
 face. He had made a mere vain attempt. These barbarous Gauls 
 had not been able to appreciate his learned prose from the opposite 
 side of the Rhine. Margarita ante porcos, he thought, to console 
 himself ; he must begin again I He dissembled his resentment and 
 profound disappointment, and with constrained composure continued 
 in a honeylike tone, — 
 
 " Vitch of fou, sentlemen, vill give me tee subreme satisfaction of 
 proving vot fou have just advanced— dat fou could to petter and more 
 priefly ? " 
 
 " Really," said Jacques, " I think one could say in a page what it
 
 56 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 has taken j'on a volume to relate ; I will not go so far as to affirm 
 that it will be better, but it will certainly not be worse." 
 
 " Speak, sir ; I vill have dat page engraved in letters of cold, and 
 I vill present it to tee Berlin Museum, vere it vill remain as a motel 
 of style and concision for tee great edification of chenerations to 
 come." 
 
 " As you please, Mr. Reptilius ; write, it will not be long ; for if 
 
 Alexander and Dinocrates. 
 
 I unclothe your historical effusion and strip it stark naked, there 
 will remain simply this, which I shall condense into a few lines : — 
 
 '' ' Alexander, that soldier of genius with the vice of an arrant 
 drunkard, the libidinous produce of an enterprising serpent and the 
 bacchante Myrtalia, while on a visit to the Pharaohs, was one day 
 promenading his own irascible majesty along the seashore, thinking 
 of Hephaestion and dreaming of Bagoas, while working off the wine of 
 the previous evening ; he halts before the little town of Rhakotis ; the 
 site pleases him : and, in accordance with the iilnns of his architect, 
 Dinocrates, he has a city built there, which he baj^tises with his
 
 ROUGH SKETCH OF HISTORY. 57 
 
 own name — vanity of a lucky warrior, who wanted to set np a 
 monument of bis reputation. 
 
 " ' Like all cities, when once founded, it rises, grows, expands, 
 and, after various adventures, topples over and falls, engulfed in a 
 terrible catastrophe from which it has never recovered. 
 
 " ' Artistic, learned, commercial, under the Ptolemies, it produces 
 masterpieces, becomes the brain of Europe, and lives like a millionaire. 
 Vicious with Cleopatra, it gets sick of the beautiful, leads the life of 
 a Punchinello, squanders its revenue, and from a mistress becomes a 
 servant. 
 
 " ' Beaten and plundered by the Romans, whom it feeds, it plunges 
 into Christianity, loses the small amount of brains that it still pos- 
 sessed, and issues from the adventure stupid, a bigot, crippled with 
 heresy. Its character is embittered ; it becomes pedantic, lunatic, 
 ill-tempered, and wrangles indefinitely about trifles. It recovers for a 
 moment a bit of strength, tussles with Amrou, who gives it a soimd 
 thrashing. After the victory he does not act too brutally towards it ; 
 he quietly makes it Mussulman, reads it the Koran to divert it, teaches 
 it to kill time by making pretty little mosques, ornamented with 
 arabesques and dainty minarets as light as lace, with the pillars of its 
 temples ; he heats his baths with the old worm-eaten volumes of its 
 library, which had escaped the destructive zeal of the Christians, under 
 Theodosius ; flirts with it, shows it the fidelity of a poodle-dog, and 
 then suddenly leaves it to its own devices, to go and trace out the 
 plan of Cairo, and make of Fostat what Alexander had made of 
 Rhakotis. 
 
 " ' After that come the Turks, ill-bred fellows, who handle it 
 roughly ; the Mamelukes, who behave like regular Pandours ; Bonaparte, 
 who does not even look at it. 
 
 " ' Finally, Mahomet Ali became infatuated with this corruption on 
 the decline, and both he and his successors sought to renew its 
 virginity ; but no, it was at an end I The palmy days of Cleopatra's 
 time are far away ; the people have been burning the candle at 
 both ends ; and, with age, parturition has come to a standstill, 
 striking with sterility the old but still bewitching coquette, who
 
 58 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 is now spending lier last pence with a few sliady bankers and un- 
 scrupulous shopkeepers who shamelessly live upon her.' " 
 
 '' Us," in j)roportion as Jacques proceeded, had shown unmis- 
 takable signs of general uneasiness. When the latter had concluded 
 this picturesque effusion, Reptilius made a prodigious leap in the 
 air, like a carp, coming down on the feet of Onesime, who awoke 
 with a start, and shouted out with pain, thinking he had fallen a 
 prey to his bugbear — the cataclysm ! Then, standing in front of 
 the young man, " Us " examined him through his spectacles with 
 mute, prolonged, cautious attention, as if he found himself in the 
 presence of a dangerous and inexplicable phenomenon. 
 
 Onesime enjoyed this profound Teutonic stupefaction. " That rascal 
 Jacques has been up to his games while I was asleep," he thought. 
 And he looked merry, his ears wide open, while avoiding the attacks 
 of the mosquitoes, attracted by flesh freshly arrived from Europe^ 
 and scratching his sore nose. 
 
 "Us" at length recovered speech; he burst out, — 
 
 " But dis is an outrage upon science, an assassination of style ; 
 it is hisdorical high dreason dat you have just gommitted ; this 
 vandastical, I might almost say prutal and unseemly, inder- 
 bredatiou " 
 
 " You may dare," interrupted Jacques, laughing ; " do not stand 
 upon ceremony." 
 
 "Of hisdory," continued Reptilius, "tisdurbs all recognised 
 notions of tee metod of dreating tis uople pranch of human know- 
 ledge. It is bure fancy." 
 
 " Like his geography, in fact," thought Onesime. 
 
 " You have dold a story and not related hisdory ; and you vill 
 not be surbrised if in my turn I find dat it is imbossible do say vorse 
 in feuver vords." 
 
 " But, Mr. Reptilius," joined in Alan Keradec, "what Mr. Jacques 
 has just said is perfect in its way ; he relates history according to 
 his temperament, you in accordance with yours ; to your interminable 
 affectation he opposes his intended brutality; his incisive ingenuous- 
 ness astounds your inert erudition ; where you use the afiirmative
 
 TWO EEUDITES FALL OUT. 
 
 59 
 
 and cutting form, lie juggles with words and plays with style ; you 
 are long, he is brief, that is all the difference. History is a mixture in 
 unequal proportions of truth and falsity, in which falsity predominates ; 
 now, you are prolix and Mr. Jacques is concise; where you are in 
 error in a volume, he only makes a mistake in a page ; all the 
 chances, therefore, that he will commit fewer mistakes than you 
 are on his side." 
 
 Reptilius smiled ^ \ ^y\ 
 
 coldly behind his f"^ 
 
 [<m.-%% 
 
 Keradec and Reptilius flinging argTiments at each other's heads. 
 
 blue glasses. 
 
 " And you, Mr, 
 Gueratec, in what ~ jg^ i 
 
 way do you make 
 mistakes ? " 
 
 " In a vast number of ways." 
 
 '' I vas aple to judge of dat a moment ago." 
 
 " And I trust I shall give you many other opportunities of doing 
 so, Mr. Reptilius." 
 
 "To-night?" 
 
 "I much regret, but I fear not; I prefer remaining under the
 
 60 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 cliarm of your coitions and learned dissertation, and of tlie original 
 sketch of your adversary. However " 
 
 Tlien lie turned towards Jacques, and placed himself at his disposal, 
 to accompany him the next day, and act as cicerone to him in 
 Alexandria. " We will compose history on the spot," he added. 
 
 The evening was prolonged until the two doctors, after having 
 tried each other for some time, ended hy grappling together in 
 earnest ; and when the two friends, on taking leave, withdrew to 
 their respective rooms, the savants, intoxicated by the science which 
 rose to their brains, were well engaged, flinging arguments at each 
 other's heads, bristling like fighting cocks, forgetting everything, 
 forgetting themselves sometimes, in the heat of the struggle. 
 
 Jacques glided beneath his mosquito net, after having previously 
 assured himself of the enemy's absence, and slept soundly, dreaming 
 of the Ptolemies, of Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 Onesime, the imprudent Onesime, who had not taken the wise pre- 
 caution of making even a superficial inspection of the premises, and had 
 left his mosquito net partly open, had a bad night, engaging by the 
 light of his candle in a series of terrible battles with the mosquitoes 
 that were thirsting for his blood, exasperated against his person.
 
 ^^Sb 
 
 View of Alexandria. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Onesime's despair. — A turn in the city. — The Consuls' Square. — Jacques is 
 dazzled ; One'sime is surprised at it. — Through the Arab town. — The island 
 of Pharos and its old lighthouse. — Onesime's distress. — He has had enough of 
 this steeplechase. — Alexandrian society. — Characters in the streets. — A few 
 words about ancient Alexandria. — The Faubourg of Karmous. — Picturesque 
 misery. — Pompey's Pillar. — Alan Keradec and Jacques find Onesime at the 
 Cafe Rossini. 
 
 T I ^HE next momiug Onesime was not to be recognised. Exliaiistedj 
 -*- broken down by insomnia, a prey to smarting irritation caused 
 by the bites of those abominable insects ; the visage puffed out, 
 the nose tumefied and the colour of carmine ; an eye half hidden 
 beneath the red, swollen lid ; it seemed as if phlegmatic erysipelas 
 had broken out all over his face. 
 
 When Jacques, after a capital night, went to wake him, and 
 handed him, at his request, a mirror, Onesime almost fainted. In 
 doubt as to his own identity, he wanted to think for a moment that it 
 was his neighbour, not himself, who had just been awakened by mistake. 
 When he was convinced that it was not an illusion, that it was himself 
 whom he saw— himself, Onesime Coquillard— he sank moaning on 
 his bed. 
 
 Jacques left him piteously facing his mirror, and went in search 
 
 61
 
 62 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 of a doctor. Coming across Dr. Keradec in the corridor, who was 
 then leaving his room, he gave him an account of the state of his poor 
 companion. The doctor promptly accompanied him to Onesime. A 
 friction with ammonia, followed by a comforting bath, made the latter 
 himself again ; and an hour afterwards, though still preserving 
 honourable and painful traces of his nocturnal battle, he joined his 
 friend and his deliverer, and sat down to the knife and fork breakfast 
 with an appetite sharpened by the struggle. 
 
 Jacques was anxious to go through the city. 
 
 The meal was briskly finished, and all three walked 
 
 out on the Consuls' Square, the Mahomet 
 
 Square, where stands the bronze statue 
 
 latter in the act of commanding. 
 Jacques was quite dazzled on entering 
 furnace, brought up to a white heat by 
 L'ays of the intense sun, where, in a 
 strange confusion of shadows, of 
 colours, of types, the hybrid popu- 
 lation, hailing from all parts of the 
 world, swarmed with a prolonged 
 hum. This unexjiected and faithful 
 foretaste of the East very much 
 impressed him. 
 
 While advancing, in the shade 
 of the acacias of the square, 
 towards the Tossizza Palace, he 
 fully indulged his ocular enthusiasm, halting at every step to 
 admire. 
 
 Here, a gigantic negro of the Soudan was shivering in his triple 
 burnous in this temperature of 86° Fahr. ; there, a group of bronzed 
 Bedouins, with small, white, even-set teeth, presenting a ferocious air 
 beneath their kouffiehs of yellow silk, bound round the head by thick 
 cords, enveloped in their loose brown gowns striped with white, in 
 coarse material woven out of camels' hair. 
 
 Farther on fellaheen women, supporting great amphorae with the 
 
 Poor Onesime !
 
 Baker at Kanuous.
 
 THE consuls' square. 65 
 
 hand on their left shoulder, passed along with proud gait, the head 
 erect, covered with the yabrah, the corners of which touched their 
 heels, full of elegance in their ample dark-blue garments falling in 
 subtle folds. A black veil, fastened at their tattooed foreheads by the 
 bright bourou, hid the lower part of the face, showing only sparkling 
 eyes, half veiled by their long black lashes. With the other arm, 
 adorned with massive copper bracelets, made in heavy coils and 
 antique form, they gracefully gathered up the flowing folds of their 
 long gowns. 
 
 Then there were robust fellaheen, slender, muscular, the colour of 
 baked brick, with gentle physiognomies beneath their white takiehs ; 
 Arnauts, in petticoats, but each carrying a whole armoury of weapons ; 
 Montenegrins, with hard features, their belts bristling with knives and 
 pistols ; olive-coloured Jews, with hooked noses, restless eyes, black 
 turbans. 
 
 The Doctor smiled, slackening the pace, stopping with Jacques, not 
 wishing to disturb this first impression of a strange world. 
 
 Onesime, in the protectinir shade of an immense white parasol, 
 lined with green silk inside, his eyes guarded by a tortoise-shell 
 binocle with smoked glasses, sought an explanation of the singular 
 enjoyment experienced by Jacques. 
 
 " What on earth," he murmured, " can he find beautiful in those 
 horrible negro faces, those ugly Bedouins, those water-carriers dressed 
 up in that ridiculous manner, those dirty fellaheen, those theatrical- 
 looking Palikari, those pasteboard Montenegrins, those filthy Jews ? 
 I admit that the sight is curious, even interesting ; but between that 
 and being lost in such ecstatic contemplation there is a long way ! " 
 And as Jacques had gone out without a parasol, he concluded that a 
 commencement of sun-fever was acting upon his brain and slightly 
 interfering with his intellect. 
 
 They walked round the square, deaf to the noisy solicitations of a 
 turbulent group of donkey-drivers, anxious to vaunt the qualities of 
 their respective animals. They passed indifferent in front of a stand 
 of hired carriages, in very good order, harnessed to small, sinewy, 
 frisky horses, with the elegant Arab coachmen in long white-and-blue 
 
 5
 
 66 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 gaiidourahs and scarlet tarboushes on their heads, their enticing 
 speech forming a striking contrast to the coarseness of their rude 
 European brethren. 
 
 They halted for a moment at the angle of the square and the Rue 
 Mahomet Tewfik, before the improvised shop of a money-changer, 
 I where a Bedouin was concluding a commercial 
 
 transaction. Leaning with one hand on a 
 rickety table, surmounted by a desk with the 
 Sarraf's glass-case, seated on a staved-in 
 - and broken-legged straw-bottomed chair, 
 he exchanged some small money for a 
 paper which he placed in one of the 
 numerous folds of his girdle. They 
 approached and received a handful of 
 piastres in return for a coin that they 
 handed this open-air banker. 
 Then, turning their backs to the 
 Tossizza Palace, they entered 
 the Rue Franque. Passing 
 apidly before the numerous 
 covered stalls of clock- 
 makers and jewellers, for 
 the most part Italians, they 
 noticed the red burnouses 
 embroidered with 
 the lig 
 gold and silver filigree work, damascened 
 daggers, amber necklaces, long tchibouks 
 with red clay bowls, and silk kouffiehs, 
 money-changer. displayed lu a fcw rare shops where 
 
 native produce was sold. 
 
 They were very soon in the middle of the Arab, town, which is 
 built on the isthmus connecting the island of Pharos with the con- 
 tinent, on the same spot as the Heptastadia. used to be. Lost in 
 a maze of narrow streets, of winding lanes, stumbling into holes, 
 
 gold, 
 ornaments in
 
 THROUGH THE AEAB TOWN. 
 
 67 
 
 floundering in sewers, they ventured into the long, low, and dark 
 passage which forms the bazaar of wearing material, where silent 
 Arab merchants, squatting down on their heels, between their narghilehs 
 stuffed full of tombeki and their babouches, indulged in the sweetness 
 of kief\ or were selling European goods worked up in the country. 
 
 Frightful-looking old Jewesses, 
 with impure gestures, gazed at them 
 eagerly, quietly setting ajar the 
 doors, so as to show pretty heads 
 of young girls in the background. 
 
 Onesime, losing his equilibrium 
 at every step, stormed, horribly 
 disgusted with this, to his mind, 
 senseless excursion, in these in- 
 extricable streets, amidst these 
 miserable hovels. 
 
 They soon emerged from the 
 labyrinth into the light ; crossing 
 drowsy-looking streets, they per- 
 ceived a few Arab houses, caught 
 sight of some curious groups on 
 the thresholds of the doors, of a 
 few moucharabiehs at the windows ; 
 and, after having followed an in- 
 terminable length of white wall 
 bordering the Grand Port, they 
 came out at the eastern point of 
 the island of Pharos, where the Fort 
 Kait-Bey rises on the site of the 
 ancient lighthouse of the Cnidian. 
 
 An accumulation of rocks and hewn stone, which can still be 
 distinguished beneath the water when the sea is calm, at the eastern 
 point of the island, is all that remains of that splendid white marble 
 tower, four hundred feet high, built in stories superposed one on 
 the other, which was a marvel of the world. 
 
 Street in the Arab quarter.
 
 68 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " The Arab town, which we have just crossed," explaiued the 
 Doctor, " covers the sjjot, cousiderably enlarged by land encroachments 
 on the sea, where the Heptastadia, that gigantic hewn-stone dyke, 
 seven stadia long, united the island of Pharos, where we stand, to 
 the continent. It terminated with the lighthouse, which, according 
 to some, exceeded in height the pyramid of Cheops, and, according 
 
 to others, was only equal 
 to that of the tower of 
 Cordouan. 
 
 " This monumental 
 jetty, intersected by a 
 double line of communi- 
 cation, divided the port 
 into two basins, which 
 still exist : the Grand 
 Port and the Port of 
 Eunostos. The Grand 
 Port, the New Port, now 
 out of use, along which 
 we have just passed, 
 ended on the east by 
 that narrow strip of land 
 of the Pharillon which 
 von see before you at 
 he extremity of the 
 4ulf, the .Acro-Lochias 
 of those days ; at its 
 base, facing the Palace 
 of the Ptolemies, the Lochias, they had dug out a basin, the Port of the 
 Kings, where the royal galleys remained at anchor. The other basin, 
 that on the west, the Port of Eunostos which extends behind us, the 
 Old Port at present, considerably enlarged by the Khedive, also had 
 its private basin, the Kibotos, into which ran a navigable canal." 
 
 The Breton ended by recalling the trick, which was quite justifiable 
 for the matter of that, of the architect of Cnidos engraving his name 
 
 Head of old Jewess.
 
 THE ISLAND OF PHAEOS AND ITS LIGHTHOUSE. 
 
 69 
 
 on the stone, followed by an inscription, and covering the whole with 
 stucco, on which was displayed, in letters of gold, the name of the 
 supposed architect, Ptolemy Philadelphus, in the hope that the slow 
 action of centuries would one day remove this slender coating, and 
 proclaim his name to the admiration of future generations. The 
 prevision of Sostratos was surpassed ; his fiime outlived his work, 
 but the monument disappeared, carried away in the lapse of 
 centuries. 
 
 Continuing along the shore, leaving Fort Ada on the right, they 
 followed the axis of the ancient 
 island of Pharos, through the 
 burning solitude of a deserted 
 neighbourhood, and attained the 
 opposite peninsula, where they 
 visited the Palace of Ras-el-Tin, the 
 summer residence of the Khedive. 
 They ascended the superb Carrara 
 marble staircase, admired the granil 
 circular audience chamber, the 
 luxurious decoration of the ceilings, 
 the richness of the parquet flooring. 
 Then crossing the shady esplanade 
 which separates the palace from 
 the harem, they rested under the 
 trees near the fountain, contem- 
 plating with pity, at the western 
 extremity of the peninsula, the ungraceful silhouette of the modern 
 lighthouse, crushed bv the souvenir of that of the times of the 
 Ptolemies. 
 
 Jacques filled a pipe, while Onesime, bathed in i)erspiratiou, 
 dabbed liimself, furiously scratching his epidermis covered with red 
 papilhe, produced by the stings of those ferocious and obstinate 
 dipterous, and the old Breton, as dry as parchment, rolled a cigarette. 
 
 After this short halt, they passed before the arsenal, crossed the 
 magnificent floating dock, and, following the curb of the Old Port to 
 
 The liL:hthouse of Alex.iiidiia
 
 70 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the custom-house, returned, this time on foot, by the same streets 
 they had traversed the previous day in the comfortable carriage of 
 Count de M . 
 
 It was with considerable satisfaction that, fatigued and hungry, 
 they returned to their hotel. 
 
 Such obstinacy, to tire oneself out, under the influence of an 
 admiring sight mania, in the pursuit of insupportable ruins, of 
 tumble-down bazaars, taking lessons of history in the open air, 
 stupefied Onesime. This steeplechase was completely in disaccord 
 with his indolent and barrack-like habits. Consequently, when the 
 Doctor and Jacques, after the meal, rose to continue their excursion, 
 he formally declined to follow them. He gave them an appointment, 
 for six o'clock, at the Cafe Rossini ; and, going up to his room, threw 
 himself on his bed, where, during a part of the afternoon, he regained 
 in healthy slumber the strength exhausted by his fatigue of the 
 morning and by the struggle of the night. 
 
 Jacques felt enjoyment in all the fibres of his being. His 
 unrestrained emotion in the early part of the day was little by little 
 brought under control, and, by reflex action, transformed into a sensa- 
 tion more calm, into a more just perception of things, which entered 
 slowly, profoundly, into his brain, penetrating it and leaving an 
 ineffaceable impression there. 
 
 After having cast a glance at the Mosque of Sheikh Ibrahim, 
 close to the hotel, a massive rectangular building, the base of which, 
 at one of the sides, was entirely covered by a cluster of Liliputian 
 shops, guaranteed against the sun by miserable mats fixed to poles, 
 they took the Rue Attarine. 
 
 The Doctor gave Jacques information as they walked along ; but 
 the latter's mind was less attracted by these modern streets of the 
 new quarter, ugly and pretentious, borrowing from Europe its fatiguing 
 monotony, from native architecture its want of solidness, without the 
 comfort of the former, without the elegance and graceful caprices 
 of the latter. 
 
 " If Alexandria," said the Doctor, '' is not the official capital, it is 
 certainly the effective one, at least of the European colony, which by
 
 ALEXANDRIAN SOCIETY. 71 
 
 slow and coutinnons infiltration achieves the conquest of Egvpt, a 
 country which is for ever being conquered and for ever absorbing its 
 conquerors I It is the centre of the operations of great banks, of 
 wealthy commercial houses ; also, alas ! of impudent rascals, whose 
 execrable reputation is the one thing that they have not stolen ; who 
 live here, thanks to the jealous and pernicious protection of their 
 respective consulates, by extorted indemnities, by substantial com- 
 pensations for imaginary injuries. It is here that daring adventurers, 
 ■with easy morals, with elastic consciences, practise robbery and black- 
 mailing on a large scale, following unavowed callings and engaging 
 in wholesale smuggling with impunity. 
 
 " Despite the shameless speculation of these worshippers of 
 Mammon, of these unscrupulous jobbers whom you loathe, the easy, 
 charming life, the entirely Parisian flow of spirits, the absolute 
 Oriental freedom of this Frankish city, attract you ; the affal>le 
 manner, the good humour, the attenuated atticism, but full of amenity 
 and indulgence, of its inhabitants, on whom the souvenir of Cleopatra 
 seems to have cast a last and pale reflection, enchant you ; and its 
 bewitching women, its passion for dancing, its love of music, its 
 social gatherings, its balls, its garden parties, charm and detain you." 
 
 They stopped before the Greek Church of the Annunciation, a 
 heavy monument with a bare exterior, of a Byzantine style, surrounded 
 by gardens. 
 
 " You must see the return from Mass," the Doctor said to him, 
 " if you wish to have a view of a long march past of superb creatures, 
 modelled after the antique fashion, with adorable profiles, perfect 
 purity of lines, with great, limpid, incomparable eyes, splendid dull 
 complexions, slender limbs, grand, noble gait. Such must have been 
 the lovely Alexandrian women in the days of the Ptolemies, when 
 they hurried along, in search of pleasure and noise, in the streets 
 of Bruchion, during the feast of Adonis, or during the Dionysia, 
 those gigantic saturnalia, a single day of which cost millions to the 
 Lagides." 
 
 At every cross-road ambulant tradesmen, Greeks from Candia 
 for the most part, in long, untidy coats, a scarf twisted round the
 
 72 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 neck, a fez placed negligently over their long black hair, exposed 
 for sale on a tray, placed on a frail folding support, their scanty 
 edibles — red and white nougat, kolounia, dates, preserves. 
 "Water-sellers made their copper goblets ring. 
 
 Arabs reposed indolently on the footpaths, grilled by the sun, 
 troubled in their idleness, cursing these grand thoroughfares paved 
 with long slabs, regretting the narrow streets of former days, where, 
 sheltered from the sun, guaranteed against the heat, they coald 
 sleep at ease, and rest their fatigued limbs. 
 
 Barbers shaved their customers in the open air. 
 Porters, with canes in their hands, dozed on their kafas, made 
 of the ribs of palm leaves, which were placed beside the open double 
 doors, in the spacious vestibules of houses of white marble or hewn 
 stone. Others conversed languidly between a couple of puffs from 
 a tchibouk, which they passed from one to the other. 
 
 Berber women were returning from market with baskets full of 
 vegetables, preceded by matrons beaming with pride; others, playing 
 the part of nursemaids, a parcel of books in the hand, a little mantle 
 on the arm, walked gravely behind babies and little girls returning 
 from school, who prematurely spoil, by a commencement of arrogance, 
 the lively charm of their pretty faces. 
 
 Then they passed a fat, proud Turk, crushing beneath his weight 
 a little grey donkey, trotting along with small strides, followed by 
 a diminutive donkey-boy, exciting the poor, tired-out beast with his 
 plaintive " Ah ! " and the point of his stick. 
 
 They passed stout, homely women, waddling along like fat geese, 
 puffing and blowing beneath their white veils, putting aside with 
 each hand the yards of black silk with which they were enveloped, 
 resembling enormous leather bottles rolling along the ground when 
 the wind, bursting in, inflated their robes. 
 
 Levantine women carelessly promenaded their indiscreet obesity, 
 leaning on the arms of dried-up Levantine men, with cunning- 
 eyes. 
 
 Negroes, under the arches, were j)ouuding coffee with heavy iron 
 pestles.
 
 A FEW WOEDS ABOUT ANCIENT ALEXANDRIA. 
 
 78 
 
 At tlie Boulevard Ismail the Doctor stopped Jacques, aud, pointing 
 out to him some fragments of exposed columns, remarked : '' Here 
 we are in the midst of Bruchion, in the ancient Canopic way. Thanks 
 to recent excavations, they have been able to find the foundations 
 of the old walls and of the pavement of the 
 streets of bygone days, which the progres- h 
 sive rising of the soil had covered with a -; 
 thick layer of refuse, nearly seven feet deep, - . 
 and to re-establish the plan of the city of 
 the past. 
 
 " Beside Rhakotis, extending along the 
 banks of the Eunostos, rose Bruchion, 
 skirting the Grand Port, separated by 
 an enceinte from the remainder of the ^ 
 town, with its numerous monu- 
 
 ments, its necropolis on the west 
 its Jewish quarter on the east of 
 the city. It was Ptolemy Soter, 
 the successor of Alexander, the 
 founder of the house of Lagides, . 
 who commenced its superb -^ 
 buildings. 
 
 " This neighbourhood was 
 covered by a network of spacious 
 thoroughfares, abutting on two great 
 arteries which crossed each other. The 
 largest of them, extending from the south- 
 west to the north-east, connected the necropolis 
 with the Jewish quarter, and ended on the west 
 near the Canopus gate, the Rosetta gate of our own 
 days. The other traversed it at a right angle, and ran between the 
 gates of the Sun and Moon, from the Port of the Kings to Lake 
 IMareotis ; there an interior })ort received the produce of Egypt by 
 the canals, whence it was conveyed by vessels to the commercial 
 ports of the Mediterranean. These broad thoroughfares were paved 
 
 v^.^1^ 
 
 / 
 
 ^2^2^. 
 
 Pounding eott'ee.
 
 74 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 with enormous blocks of polished granite, resting on a thick bed 
 of niasonry, and bordered by palaces, colonnades, and spacious pave- 
 ments sheltered by arcades. 
 
 "Apart from the water of the canal, which sprang from the 
 {'anopic branch ending at Kibotos, a number of cisterns gave 
 Alexandria a supply of water in profusion, and the orientation of 
 its streets gave its inhabitants the enjoyment, says Strabo, of a 
 delicious season, thanks to the Etesian winds which blew from the 
 north, and, after crossing a broad expanse of sea, brought i)leasant 
 freshness to the atmosphere during the heat of summer. 
 
 "At Bruchion, covered with royal palaces and public gardens, 
 were the Museum and its library, where a multitude of philosophers 
 and men of learning, screened from the material cares of life, laboured 
 in calmness and meditation, in studying and in teaching science ; 
 the Greek temples ; the Soma, where reposed the body of Alexander 
 the Great ; the circus and theatre, the gymnasium, the Stadia, the 
 Poseidion, the Emporion, the Apostasis and other beautiful monu- 
 ments, where a turbulent crowd bent on pleasure and a population 
 of scholars, artists, and thinkers flocked together. 
 
 " In the Egyptian quarter of Rhakdtis, where we shall soon arrive, 
 the Temple of the Serapeum, with its library recalling that of the 
 Museum, towered up from the summit of its hundred steps. 
 
 " Tlie Macedonian had taken a wide glance round, when, by a 
 flash of genius, struck with the excellence of this admirable position, 
 which permitted of communication with Egypt by Lake Mareotis, and, 
 by a well-sheltered port, with the Mediterranean shores, he selected 
 this site whereon to found his city. 
 
 " A vigorous current of emigration immediately flowed from all 
 parts of Greece to this new emporium ; adventurous fugitives from 
 Syria came here, mingling with the cunning sons of Judea ; workmen 
 and merchants from the Delta awoke from their torpidity and reached 
 the rising city in numbers. Under the successors of Soter, Phila- 
 delphus and Euergetes, Alexandria, rich and prosperous, was the 
 commercial gathering place of the nations, while its letters, its savants 
 and artists, made it the intellectual centre of the world. Euclid the
 
 THE FAUBOUEG OF KAEMOUS. 75 
 
 mathematician, Demetrius of Phaleros, who commenced at tlie Musemn 
 the collection of books which was destined to become the finest in 
 the universe, the painter Apelles, the sculptor Antiphilos, and many 
 others gave matchless renown and lustre to its schools ; the Bible 
 was translated into Greek, under the designation of Version of the 
 Seventy ; and later on, under Cleopatra, Dioscorides composed his 
 works here ; the astronomer Sosigenes assisted Caesar in introducing 
 the Julian, or rather the Egyptian year. And now let us go and 
 see Rhakotis." 
 
 And the Doctor, taking Jacques' arm, turned to the right, following 
 streets bordered by luxuriant gardens, exhaling delicious perfumes, 
 and so quitted the city by the gate of the Nile, and followed the 
 dusty road leading to Karmous. 
 
 The market, or rather fair, is held, on appointed days, on the large, 
 dusty, arid expanse of ground adjoining the faubourg, and there flock 
 Arabs, fellaheen farmers, with well-filled money-bags, their camels, 
 their cattle ; there water-carriers and vendors of all sorts of beverages 
 move to and fro. It is there that the Karagueuz goes through his 
 lewd acrobatic performances, and where serpent-charmers renew the 
 juggling tricks of Pharaoh's magicians. 
 
 Having crossed this Sahara on a small scale, they reach Karmous, 
 the site of ancient Rhakotis ; and through the openings in the double 
 avenue of sycamores lining the road, they perceive in the distance 
 Pompey's Pillar. 
 
 Here and there appear small dingy cafes with their few 
 customers. Dislocated trellis work, half-covered with torn matting, 
 shreds of old cloth rotting on sticks fixed into the masonry, hanging 
 on cords stretching from the wall to the sycamores, cast a little shade 
 on the rickety tables, broken-legged chairs, worm-eaten benches. 
 Fowls peck about, pigeons swoop down, reddish goats with white 
 spots, flat snouts, long, flexible ears, frail limbs, inflated bellies, come 
 here for shelter. 
 
 Hosts of half-naked urchins, deliciously picturesque in their 
 rudimentary rags, bound out of dilapidated houses. They raise clouds 
 of dust in the wildness of their gambols, wallowing amid deafening
 
 76 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 cries in the ruts of the road, rolling pell-mell in the holes where 
 voracious swine rummage with their black snouts in tlie stench of 
 impurities and detritus of all kinds, and issue from them frightfully 
 contaminated. 
 
 Farther on clusters of boys and girls, barely covered with a cotton 
 chemisette sprinkled with red and yellow flowers, their eyes devoured 
 by flies, are balancing themselves on rustic swings hooked on to the 
 branches of the svcamores. 
 
 c~:> 
 
 A goat. 
 
 Camels with undulating necks gaze vaguely about them with 
 their great sad eyes, walking silently with their heaving motion, 
 urged on by the voice and gestures of sombre Bedouins j)erched up 
 on their summits. 
 
 Women with ravaged features, with sordid garments, pass by with 
 babies seated astride on their shoulders. Little girls clutching their 
 gowns with the hand, a leather amulet round the ueck or suspended 
 between the two eves, in flowino- chemises of a crude colour, the head
 
 Cafe in Kamious.
 
 PICTURESQUE MISERY. 
 
 79 
 
 bound in a fichn of torn spotted muslin, trot along beside them, 
 
 supple as young snakes, shaking in the wind i 
 
 their fine plentiful black tresses. Their little 
 
 arms are encircled with bracelets ; a smile ■ I 
 
 plays on their sweet brown faces, casting a w^h , i M' 
 
 gleam into their dark eyes ; their pearly 
 
 teeth shine white, moist, between their red 
 
 lips, resembling drops of dew fallen on 
 
 gaping pomegranates. 
 
 You pass by a butcher's stall in the 
 open air, composed of a few planks sur- 
 mounted by a weather board protecting a 
 vacillating counter where a few pieces of 
 blackish meat are drying, while a 
 child armed with a palm leaf defends 
 
 them against an onslaught of 
 flies. 
 
 '^^. 
 
 Women of Karnious. ^ 
 
 Close at hand a poor Arab 
 is striving to drive away those 
 aggressive insects, which are be- 
 sieging a quantity of reddish stuff 
 placed on a tray on the ground — 
 sticky goods called date bread, com- 
 posed of that fruit kneaded into a 
 glutinous block. 
 
 Near him, in a liliputian sliop, 
 , iH^" a woman is selling oranges, squat- 
 ting down in the midst of her fruit, 
 which casts a brown-gold reflection on her face. 
 
 In the courtyard of a house a psylle — a snake-charmer — is 
 
 Woman selling oranges.
 
 80 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 installed, making his hideous pupils go throngh their work : removing 
 the cover of a basket filled with woollen rags, he plunges in his arm 
 and draws forth a handful of reptiles, who hiss and twist about- 
 grey snakes, vipers with brilliant horns, eryxis, scytalis. He first of 
 all teases them with a stick, rolls them round 
 his neck, his wrists, slips them into his 
 breast, and makes the repulsive creatures bite 
 him again and again. He ends, by slightly 
 pressing the head of one of them, placing 
 it in a cataleptic state and making it as stiff 
 as a stick. To give it elasticity and movement 
 again, he gently rubs the end of the tail be- 
 tween his two hands. 
 
 Jacques stopped from time to time making 
 a note or a sketch. They soon reached the 
 foot of the mound, on the summit of which 
 rises, lofty and white, the column called 
 Pompey's Pillar. They climbed the steep as- 
 cent, in a few seconds reached the upland, and 
 seated themselves on the last remaining layer 
 of stones of this remnant of the Serapeum. 
 
 It was close to here that Kleber 
 ' was wounded while leading an 
 assault ; and it was at the foot of 
 the column that the French soldiers 
 who met their death in scaling the 
 ramparts were buried. 
 This colossal monolith, measuring twenty-three feet in circumference 
 by ninety-six feet high, was erected by a Roman prefect, one Pompey, 
 in honour of Diocletian. The column, in polished red syenite, with 
 its quadrangular socle and crowned by its dilapidated capital, on 
 the top of which was perhaps a statue, is a masterpiece of propor- 
 tion. According to an Arab legend it moves, bending in the morning 
 towards the east to hail the rising sun, and in the evening, at sunset, 
 to watch the sun speed away in the western horizon. 
 
 :=-i2..^ 
 
 Pompey's Pillar.
 
 Sii^-I 
 
 
 
 A Snake Charmer.
 
 rOMPEY S PILLAR. 
 
 83 
 
 Disappeared ! the portico surrounded by its four hundred cohimus, 
 where tradition places the Serapeum Library. Disappeared ! the 
 giant staircase with a hundred marble steps leading up to it. The 
 column alone remains of all those glories, a solitary and grandiose 
 witness, testifying to the splendour of the edifice annihilated by men's 
 anger, recalling in the decay of the present time the marvels of 
 the past. 
 
 Tourists have inscribed their names on the pedestal, soiling with 
 their vain egotism this imposing page of history. 
 
 From the high ground the eye sadly contemplates the Arab 
 cemetery, which extends in an arid waste at the foot of the mound, 
 with its innumerable sepulchres made of sunburnt bricks or pis^, and 
 its accumulation of flat stones, sheltering swarms of scorpions, from 
 beneath which a horned viper from time to time thrusts out its 
 hideous head. 
 
 The two friends came down again, followed by a dozen boys and 
 beggars, who kept at a respectful distance and strained their lungs 
 by cries of " Baksheesh ! " 
 
 They soon re-entered the city by the Mahmoudieh Gate, following 
 the Rue Ibrahim Pasha, at the rapid trot of their muscular little steeds, 
 and at six o'clock reached the Cafe Rossini, where Onesime, who had 
 rested, faithful to the appointment, had been waiting for them for 
 half an hour.
 
 >i the Hclt.i. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The Grand Port.— Alan Ke'radec invokes the past.— Onesime's virtuous indignation. 
 —What he thinks of Cleopatra and her Needles.— Xocturnal run through 
 Alexandria.— A trip to Ramleh. — One'sime and his donkey.— Across the 
 fields. — The Mahmoudieh Canal promenade. — Its gardens.— The canal 
 banks.— Ke'radec, Jacques, and Onesime take tickets for Cairo. 
 
 THERE was a splendid view from the front of the cafe, which 
 was built on piles, almost in the centre of the curve of the 
 New Port. The north wind brought some freshness, and the sun, 
 which was disappearing behind the Arab town, cast its dying 
 lustre on the opposite shore. 
 
 Onesime was not very sensitive to these effects of nature, to this 
 child's play of the sun, making, he said, such a fuss before going 
 to bed ; he sipped the contents of his glass, rolled cigarettes, enjoyed 
 his far niente like a man accustomed to it and who knew how to 
 appreciate it properly : thrown back in his chair, he inhaled the 
 breeze deliciously, listlessly lent his ear to the puffs of harmony 
 which escaped from the open windows of the cafe, and left the 
 two friends to their mania for admiring, and to their historical 
 reminiscences. 
 
 The rays of the setting sun, in a final glow, cast a purple glaze 
 on the gold and amber tones of this bay, full of graceful curves 
 
 84
 
 GEAND POUT. 85 
 
 and almost imperceptible sinuosities. In the distance Cleopatra's 
 Needle stood out against the warm background of the sky, slender 
 and rose-coloured in its elegant splendour. The Pharillon, with its 
 forts on a level with the ground, gave a few brilliant touches of 
 reddish white which were reflected harshly in the luminous calm of 
 the gulf, where the pale whiteness of the tapering crescent of the 
 moon was already delineated in an imperceptiljle quiver. 
 
 Fishermen were hurriedly drawing in their nets ; in the water 
 up to the waist, they formed a chain extending from the shore to 
 a boat anchored a few feet from land. The little skiff, kept 
 motionless by an old Arab with naked feet, white beard, and green 
 turban, standing erect in the fore part, provided with a long boat- 
 hook which he thrust into the sand, hardly swayed to and fro in 
 the undulation of the waves which came to die on the fine sand, 
 breaking in a thin silvery line. The men, with features tanned by 
 the sea, bronzed l)y the sun, silently passed an interminable net from 
 hand to hand. The last of them, on shore, withdrew the fish caught 
 in the meshes, keeping the largest and casting the small fry aside. 
 
 Poor, half-naked children, showing their lean backbones, picked 
 up the latter from the sand and placed it in baskets woven out 
 of palm leaves. 
 
 Arabs, sitting down, wrapped in their burnouses, looked on, 
 mechanically turning the box- wood beads of their chaplets in their 
 hands. 
 
 Yellow, thin, famished dogs, with pointed muzzles, prowled 
 restlessly about, with tail low, ears erect, fangs sharp, the nose to 
 the wind anxiously scenting traces of carcasses to devour in the 
 effluvia of the air. 
 
 Then all these, men and things, dissolved insensibly in a uniform 
 tint of a bluish transparency, which the twilight slowly extended 
 over this great tranquillity, and the cold shadows of night fell 
 with their damp veil over the scene. 
 
 " How beautiful 1 " escaped from Jaapies, turning towards the 
 Doctor, who was also looking, with his elbows on the balustrade, 
 but looking as one lost.
 
 86 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Here we are," said On^sime to himself internally ; " the fit 
 has seized them. Admiration is about to be given uninterrupted 
 sway. They have pulled the cord ; look out for the shower-bath ! " 
 And he let out a puff of smoke, with a loud sound from his lips and 
 a very contemptuous shrug of the shoulders. 
 
 "Yes, it's very beautiful," answered the Doctor, "beautiful in 
 the beauty of the present and in the souvenirs of the past. Look l 
 
 " Poor, half-naked children. 
 
 we can reconstruct it in the mind's eye, this grand past, which 
 weighs upon this fallen city ; the scenery is still here." 
 
 " Ah ! Here's the first act commencing ; attention ! The curtain 
 has risen," murmured Onesime pleasantly ; " let's listen to it I " 
 
 " Quite in the background, over there — that point of Pharillon which 
 is facing us, with its two forts, the Mencharieh and the Jews — was 
 the promontory of Acro-Lochias with the spur of its breakwater. At 
 the base of this promontory probably rose the Palace of Lochias, at 
 the foot of which, enclosed between its two dykes, was the private
 
 ALAN KEEADEC INVOKES THE PAST. 87 
 
 port reserved for the galleys of the Ptolemies. Follow the curve 
 approaching our shore ; there were the arsenals, the Apostasia or 
 royal storehouses, and facing them, the island of Antirhodes, with 
 its little private port and palace. Those rocks, the tops of which 
 you see peeping out in the form of a horse-shoe, indicate the site. 
 A little below, and more to the east, upon another islet which no 
 longer exists, rose the Timonium of Antony, connected with the land 
 by a causeway leading to the steps of the Temple of Neptune, the 
 Poseidion ; Cleopatra's Needles, removed from one of the pylones 
 of the Temple of Heliopolis, — one erect, which we see, the other 
 overthrown, half buried in the sand. Then, still nearer to us, the 
 Caesareum or Sebasteum, completed under Tiberius, where seamen 
 came before sailing to implore the gods to be propitious to them, 
 or to thank them for a happy return. Between the coast and the 
 existing gardens of Antoniades was the Exchange, the Emporium, 
 the centre of the commercial transactions of the three continents. 
 
 " Now if you could sound the depth of the gulf (the Great Gulf), 
 you would find beneath the water, at a fathom or two from the 
 surface, from Cape Lochias to Cleopatra's Needles, the traces of the 
 quays that preceded these splendid buildings. There vessels of all 
 countries came to discharge their goods and carry away the produce 
 of Egypt : ships from Tyre, built with the pines of Sanis, with 
 masts of cedar hewn down on Mount Lebanon, with oars fashioned 
 from the oaks of Basan, seats of Cyprus box-wood, ornamented with 
 ivory, sails made of Egyptian flax, dyed with the purple of the 
 Hellespont, with their oarsmen from Sidon, their mariners from 
 Djehal. Their spacious hulls contained purple, lapis, coral, and the 
 jasper of the Armenians, wine from Kelboun, and dazzling fleece from 
 Damascus ; polished iron, cinnamon, the aromatic reed from Javan, 
 Dan, and Menzal ; rich carpets from Dedan ; slaves and brazen vases 
 from Tubal and Mosoch ; ivory from distant islands. 
 
 '' Boats from the Red Sea brought kids and lambs from the desert ; 
 aromatic plants, precious stones, and gold from Yemen. 
 
 "Equi from Gades, their prows ornamented with horses' heads, 
 discharged their heavy cargoes of iron, tin, and lead from the Orcades.
 
 88 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " The oucraria of all forms, loaded with furs and slaves from the 
 North, Italiau wines, thronged along the quays, beside light liburues 
 Avith two rows of oars ; other powerful liburnes, with their undershot 
 wheels, set in motion by bullocks or athletic slaves ; galleys, from the 
 simple uuireme with one bench of oarsmen, to the colossal vessel of 
 Philopator with forty, measuring 420 feet in length by 57 feet broad, 
 and numbering 4,000 rowers, the thalamites at the prow, the zygites 
 in the centre, the thranites, with long oars, at the poop, ending on 
 either side with double blades. Amidst these splendid ships, poor 
 looking lembes, frail epholsces coasting in the Mediterranean, mingled 
 with covered thalamegia of the Nile, and with the leather boats, 
 lined with wicker-work, of some adventurous red Gauls." 
 
 " That sounds very well," thought Ouesime maliciously, " all that 
 little classical nonsense ; one scents the university a mile off ; it has 
 a savour of the library, a perfume of erudition which is quite 
 troubling for rather rudimentary brains. And to hear them one 
 would really think that it has happened — that they have seen those equi, 
 oneraria, liburnes, lembes, epholsces, thalamegia. One would really 
 imagine they had navigated on board those playthings all their lives 
 with their thalamites, zygites, thranites. That is what they term 
 re-establishing the past ! A fine past, indeed I " And shrugging 
 his shoulders, he hummed in thought, accompanying the last measures 
 of the orchestra, which was concluding a melody of Beethoven. 
 
 " And now nothing ! " said Jacques — " nothing but this isolated 
 monolith on the ruins of Bruchion, like Pompey's Pillar on those of 
 Rhakotis I Two granite ancestors, humiliating for the weakness of 
 their degenerate descendants ! " 
 
 " Who do not even understand the words graven on their face," 
 concluded Keradec. 
 
 " There ! That's it, bring out the big words," scolded Onesime, 
 whose face was becoming overcast. " Mock the living ! Incense the 
 dead ! Pronounce the panegyric of all these antediluvian antiquities ! 
 It is impossible ! They must have made a mistake in the century of 
 their birth. They must have missed their entrance at the period of 
 the Ptolemies, these praters of ' dead languages ' let loose in the midst
 
 onesime's virtuous indignation. 89 
 
 of the nineteenth century I Don't they cling on to the past ? " And 
 Onesime, whose face all at once became stern, felt the thorns of 
 irritation which began to prick his muscles ; he felt the needles, 
 the uneasiness in the legs, that with him was the certain premonitory 
 sign of a storm which was brewing in the innumerable cells of the 
 tissues of his person, and which disturbed their system. 
 
 " Ah I " continued the Doctor, " in this down-fallen Alexandria, 
 given over to complete intellectual and moral disorder, under the 
 successors of Euergetes, fallen under Roman tutelage, there must still 
 have been vivid bursts of light when Antony, subjugated by the 
 adorable beauty and marvellous mind of Cleopatra, followed her to 
 Egypt ; when the amorous couple, magnificent in their furious love, 
 ever in quest of a fresh pleasure, of a new sort of voluptuousness, 
 untiring in their enjoyment, insatiable in the immensity of their 
 desire, drawing from inexhaustible treasures, promenaded in the four 
 quarters of the city the conflagration of their immense debauchery, 
 of their unheard-of luxury : colossal orgies in which the fortunes 
 of Antony were to founder, in which both were to meet death, he 
 falling on his sword, Cleopatra by allowing an asp to bite her in the 
 breast ! " 
 
 This was too much I The measure was full. They exalted 
 Cleopatra, that old coquette of Egypt; they glorified vice I Onesime's 
 patience was exhausted. The storm burst, and the dark cloud, swollen 
 with his accumulated exasperation, burst beneath the vigorous eftbrt 
 of virtuous indignation — and Onesime's indignation was no small 
 matter. He made a superb movement, his movement on great 
 occasions, that incomparable and inimitable start, that astonishing 
 start, that sudden, bold, dominating action, full of design, which so 
 furiously shook the heavy layers of his hirsute rotundity. Sometimes 
 to this typical gesture, which was almost legendary, he added his 
 pollice terso — another oratorical movement which also belonged to 
 him, was absolutely his, but which he only made use of under very 
 solemn circumstances, when he sapped the foundations of religion and 
 spoke of placing Ministers of Religious Afi"airs in the presence of their 
 Creator. On these occasions he was irresistible; everything gave way
 
 90 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 "Always mnimaging in 
 demolitions." 
 
 before him; lie catapulted ! This time he left his pollice verso in its 
 
 sheath. His voice vibrated in a tremolo full of threats ; he used his 
 irony, his cold, bitter, sarcastic, corrosive irony. 
 It burnt. It became impregnated with gall, bile^ 
 curare, and a lot of other things that were stirring 
 within him. It bit, lacerated, smashed — for^ 
 when he broke out, he was terrible, Onesime, 
 terrible ! Terribilis visu ! And he broke out, 
 Onesime Coquillard, of Paris. 
 
 " What owls you make yourselves ! " he 
 exclaimed in his sudden explosion. " Always 
 upheaving ruins, rummaging in demolitions, re- 
 building in imagination a lot of old structures 
 which have seen their day, kneeling before old 
 ashlars like the negroes of the Congo before 
 their fetishes ; the shadow of the past haunts 
 your cracked brains and deranges them, my good 
 
 friends ; you are hallucinated with History ! " 
 
 " What ! " said Jacques, stupefied at this sudden outburst, which 
 
 was quite unexpected, " hallucinated ! " 
 
 " Yes, hallucinated ; and hallucinated more- 
 over in the worst way ! " And the peaceful pate 
 
 of the excited Onesime bristled up. " Maniacs, 
 
 if you prefer it ; pettifogging jmtchers-up of 
 
 anecdotes, polishers of history, who have not 
 
 even the tact to choose, but rush with the nose 
 
 pointing right on to the ulcers of the disease, 
 
 and laboriously describe its loathsome phases ; 
 
 when you walk in such paths you should look 
 
 where you place j'our feet. What a lot of fuss 
 
 for a miserable block of stone and a slut who 
 
 went on a revel with a soldier ! But leave alone 
 
 that poor, ridiculous landmark which has been 
 
 forgotten by the destroyers, as well as that 
 
 fallen creature Cleopatra, the Egyptian Messalina, who, like her 
 
 " Yes, hallucinated."
 
 WHAT ONESIME THOUGHT OF CLEOPATRA. 
 
 91 
 
 imitator later on at Rome, was never satisfied, not even fatigued, 
 the hussy ! '" 
 
 " But, Monsieur Coquilhird," Keradec ventured to observe, " this 
 Cleoimtra whom you are treating so cruelly, did she not, faithful to 
 the instincts of her race, protect the Arts, restore the library of the 
 Museum, which was burned during the siege that Csesar conducted at 
 Bruchion against the Alexandrians, and enrich it with two hundred 
 thousand volumes ? And that obelisk, that landmark, as you term it, 
 why, it is a page of history." 
 
 Useless trouble ! One'sime was not to be stopped like that ; he 
 would not come to terms when the revolt of his good sense was in 
 action. They had roused his anger, they must bear it ; they had 
 imjirudently thrown a lucifer upon his inflammable matter, and he 
 had burst out in flames I They had blown oxygen on the latent fire of 
 his drowsy indignation, poked up the live embers that were smoulder- 
 ing beneath the ashes of his longanimity, and the conflagration was 
 raging I Onesime was in full combustion — Ardet TJcalegon! And 
 in the frightful rumbling of his phrases, in the 
 incessant crackling of his words, he roared out 
 burning invectives which vigorously shook his 
 robust framework as they issued forth. 
 
 " They were beautiful I" he exclaimed, in reply 
 to Keradec's imprudent interrujition, "the in- 
 stincts of your protectress of the Arts who 
 prigged from the city of Pergamus the treasures 
 of its library to make a present of them to 
 Alexandria, and stock its Museum with them. 
 The hussy I What would you say of a person 
 who robbed you of a sovereign to present it to 
 his friend ? That he was an imj^udent thief. 
 She was nothing else. As to your page of 
 history, if all the old books of your Serapeum 
 or your Museum had similar ones, the volumes 
 must have been of prodigious size and have occupied an enormous 
 space I I pity those who turned over the leaves. Don't bother me
 
 92 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 with your geuteel, beautiful, noble Cleopatra I that insolent female 
 wlio, instead of threading pearls, like a well-brought-up young 
 lady, as she should have been, amused herself by swallowing them ! 
 That wicked queen, who treated herself to perfumes the price of 
 a single one of which would have swallowed up a quarter share in 
 the business of a stockbroker of our times, and inundated herself 
 with them ; who sat down to table smothered in a heap of roses 
 before phenomenal dishes, and who could not go a step without a 
 band of musicians at her heels ! That same Cleopatra, whose rabid 
 restlessness never allowed her to pause ; that dissolute creature who 
 disguised herself at night-time to frequent places of ill-reimte with her 
 Antony, after having married her young rascal of a brother at 
 fifteen, and thrown herself into Caesar's arms a year later I And her 
 husband, in the meanwhile, her poor brother and spouse, the luckless 
 Ptolemy XIII. (bad number !), disajipeared like a nutmeg, juggled 
 away by his tender sister and wife, and desj)atched ad jjatven to sleep 
 with his ancestors ! And the little boy Ctesarion, the fruit of her 
 Cffisarian love, was left by his dear mamma in the kitchen with the 
 servant-maids I And it is that atrociously bad woman, combining 
 so agreeably robbery and adultery, prostitution and murder, ending 
 by suicide, whom you have chosen for a heroine I You have been 
 fortunate. Listen, shall I tell you ? Well I Your historical figure 
 is merely an hysteric figure ! Your page of history is unclean, and if 
 it is necessary that it should be written somewhere, there are special 
 gazettes for that — in England ! " 
 
 In Cauda tenenwni ! It was the tail-end of the storm exhausting 
 its anger in this last clap of thunder, which was to strike "^>er- 
 Jidious Albion " beyond the seas. 
 
 Jacques and the Doctor laughed heartily at the virtuous indig- 
 nation of their friend, whose chaste bourgeois instincts had been 
 unexpectedly ruflfled by this, according to him, immoral exaltation of 
 one of the most marvellous women of antiquity. 
 
 " Laugh as much as you like," said Oncsime, whose indignation, 
 drowned in the tide of his own words, had given place to his customary 
 sly good humour ; '.' I'll laugh also, to keep you company, and because
 
 Street in the Arab quarter of Alesandrui.
 
 NOCTURNAL RUN THROUGH ALEXANDRIA. 95 
 
 ' laughter is the characteristic of man '; but all the same, it annoys me 
 to think that there are many good, courageous, pretty, amiable,' 
 devoted little women, admirably staid and sedate, who present their 
 husbands with beautiful brats, pass their lives in bringing up the 
 latter and in coddling the former, performing prodigies of economy to 
 make both ends meet, and who are never spoken of, whereas people do 
 nothing but sing the praises of those ancient and modern wantons. 
 Well ! yes, there, I protest against this pernicious praise ; it irritates 
 me, it enervates me, it makes me jump ! " 
 
 " Jump ! my friend," said Jacques ; " you have rested enough this 
 afternoon. But let us leave Cleopatra and her Needle and return to 
 the hotel ; your quo usque has made me feel quite empty, and must 
 have roused your own appetite." 
 
 " Yes, tolerably ; but as for Cleopatra, that shame of the Levant, 
 that strutting historical slut " 
 
 " That's understood ; we will send her to join the cataclysm ! 
 There, are you satisfied ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well ! let's be off." 
 
 And the trio set out for the hotel standing at a few yards from 
 the cafe. 
 
 At the corner of the Mahomet Ali Square they fell in with a crowd 
 of Arabs advancing towards the Rue Franque amidst the noise of 
 daraboukas, flutes, Indian bells, dominated by the resounding blasts 
 of trombones, which overpowered with their metallic notes the human 
 voices that were intoning a discordant melopoeia. The men carried 
 enormous paper lanterns. The procession was preceded by acrobats, 
 and followed by a swarm of urchins with lighted inachallas, which 
 shed clusters of sparks accompanied by thick black smoke. 
 
 The Doctor explained to Jacques that this was a bridegroom being 
 escorted to his bride. 
 
 After dinner Jacques and the Doctor, who were indefatigable, went 
 out, leaving Onesime, who had sunk down on one of the divans of the 
 smoking-room, behind them. 
 
 Night had thrown its sombre tint over the brilliant show of
 
 96 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 costumes so dazzling during the day : the doors closed, the crowd 
 became less compact ; the sounds were muffled ; the city was slowly 
 falling off to sleep in the cool repose of the night, which at each 
 moment became more obscure. The darkness of the streets, vaguely 
 lit up by rare gas-burners, was broken here and there by streams 
 of light from the European cafe's ; they were plotting there the 
 scandal of the morrow, or concocting between two drinks the business 
 of the week; a few readers were looking through the European 
 papers. 
 
 A^acillating lanterns were suspended at the framework of the 
 worm-eaten doorways of Arab cafes, lit up inside by miserable lamps 
 giving doubtful hght. Morose old Turks were smoking their 
 narghilehs beside natives, picturesquely squatting down in company 
 with Levantines in coats. All were listening with rapture to the 
 humdrum voices of the singers and story-tellers, mingled with the 
 harsh grating of the rebecks. From time to time a prolonged " Ah ! " 
 plaintively modulated, was uttered in applause of the song or story of 
 these troubadours of the East. 
 
 In the eccentric quarters they passed rapidly before gambling hells, 
 where the dregs of the population were losing, amidst blasphemies, 
 what they had earned or stolen during the day ; where the losers, 
 knife in hand, mad with rage, were quarrelling with the winners for 
 the money that chance had bestowed on the latter. 
 
 They walked by other suspicious-looking establishments, where 
 a disgraceful human merchandise could be perceived through the 
 half-open doors as a bait for belated jjassers-by, for desires that 
 were not very refined. Furtive shadows entered, others came out. 
 Sometimes the prolonged, heart-rending cry of a woman escaped 
 from one of these dens, followed by a series of imprecations of a 
 brutal, discontented male ; and hideous silence once more reigned 
 around. 
 
 The two friends hurried on their way, and returned to the central 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 Along the walls, against the closed shop-fronts, the night 
 watchmen, wrapped in miserable-looking rugs, reclined on their
 
 /!..-.\A'''>^'--^iV.
 
 A TRIP TO EAMLEH. 
 
 99 
 
 long palm-libre cages, or, sciuatting down in packing-cases, yelled 
 
 their watch-cry in the silence of the night ; this cry flew from mouth 
 
 to month, repeated by each of them, rnnning along the street, 
 
 reverberating in the whole neighbourhood, lulling the -slumbering 
 
 city with its humdrum monotony, disturbed 
 
 sometimes by the moans of a watchman whom . i'*p 
 
 the courbash of the Sheifkh, the appointed .;|; 
 
 chief of the corporation, was punishing for "^^^ 
 
 falling asleep. 
 
 They got home rather late, and found — — 
 
 Onesime and Reptilius claiming, each for 
 
 his own country, the glory of having _, 
 
 had Charlemagne for Emperor. As the 
 argument was approaching bitterness and 
 threatened to become still more en- 
 venomed, Doctor Keradec made them 
 of one mind by delivering a judgment 
 worthy of Solomon. 
 
 " Cut in two this German, crossed 
 with a Latin," he said, " and let each 
 take his share ; he is a Teuton by 
 
 his name Karl, and French by his u 
 qualities which obtained for him the \|r 
 
 s^ 
 
 Nisht watchmen. 
 
 surname of Magnus : Karl is your - 
 property, Monsieur Reptilius ; Magnus 
 belongs to you. Monsieur Onesime." 
 
 This put an end to the discus- 
 sion, and each of them retired to 
 his room. 
 
 The next morning, at eight o'clock, Keradec, Onesime, and Jacques 
 were at the Ramleh railway station. An Arab boy, in a white 
 gown, with a wide-awake air about him, perforated their tickets ; 
 they were able to examine at their ease the rather stout station- 
 master in a stambouline and tarboush, and jumped into the carriage. 
 
 On leaving the station a few shafts of broken columns, brought
 
 100 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 to light ill making the earthworks of the railway, made them think 
 of Bruchion again ; they passed a small, almost dried-up watercom'se 
 over a little bridge, the only one on the line ; caught sight of 
 fellaheen villages through the reeds ; and, a few 
 minutes afterwards, crossed the " French lines," 
 gigantic entrenchments thrown up by Bonaparte's 
 soldiers in 1799, to protect the town on this side 
 against the English. 
 
 On coming out on the plain the view was 
 splendid ; it took in an immense horizon : on the 
 left the intensely blue sea, with its cliffs in tones 
 of burnt ochre ; opposite, the Mustapha Palace ; 
 on the right innumerable fig trees, the Mahmoudieh 
 Canal with its tufts of green and multitude of boats, 
 the masts and sails of which seemed to rise 
 from the earth ; and, right in the background, 
 Ramleh with its white, pink, and blue houses 
 coquettishly scattered amidst its gardens and 
 palm trees. Then, close at hand, between the 
 line and the sea, the solitary ruins of the old necropolis of the Jewish 
 quarter and of the Eleusis faubourg of Alexandria, regular quarries 
 of work, riddled with hypogea constantly turned topsy-turvy by the 
 ereedv hands of dealers in curiosities, while those hewn in the sides 
 of the cliff are lost beneath the sea-waves, destroyed by the ever- 
 lasting action of a violent maritime current from west to east. 
 
 After a short stoppage at Mustapha, the train went on again, 
 passing the traces of the Oppidum, the grand ruins of which, still 
 intact in 1871, served to build this little upstart Ramleh, which 
 stands on the site of Nicopolls. 
 
 The three travellers got out at the next station, and made the 
 three donkey boys whose animals they hired happy, while they 
 disappointed the five others who were not chosen. They got astride 
 their smart asses, and trotted through this agglomeration of villas 
 of all colours, placed irregularly and built lightly on a foundation 
 of sand. The guardianship of these country houses of the wealthy 
 
 Station-master.
 
 ONESIME AND HIS DONKEY. 101 
 
 citizens of Alexandria, inhabited during the winter, is entrusted to the 
 honesty of the Arabs, under the responsibility of their Sheikh. 
 
 On^sime made prodigious efforts to maintain a most unstable 
 equilibrium, first losing one stirrup, then the other, clutching the 
 reins with one unsteady hand, while with its companion he feverishly 
 grasped the handle of his parasol, which acted as a balancing-pole, 
 describing fantastical curves in space ; he resembled thus a fat, 
 drunken Silenus brandishing his thyrsus. All at once a i)laintive 
 " Ah I " uttered in a hollow tone of voice and followed by the vigorous 
 stroke of a switch, applied to the loins of the ass by the young fellah 
 in a blue gown, white turban, and yellow babouches, who was 
 running behind the uncomfortably seated rider, produced a sudden 
 and unexpected effect, which was disastrous for On^sime's stability, 
 already so much in danger. Surprised at this doleful exclamation, he 
 turned his head to ascertain the cause ; at the same moment the 
 animal set off at a full gallop, and the unfortunate rider, losing both 
 stirrups together, letting go his parasol, with his spectacles dis- 
 arranged, his hat blown off, his hair wafted by the wind, had only 
 just time to seize the large red pommel of the saddle with both hands 
 and to clutch it firmly. Frightfully shaken on the back of the 
 quadruped, whose gallop was accelerated by the stirrups beating his 
 flanks, he had quite the appearance of a badly fastened bale of goods. 
 After a final and fruitless struggle to preserve this problematical 
 stability, he at last lost his balance, emptied the saddle, and spread 
 himself out in full on the sand, while the disburdened animal con- 
 tinued his course faster than ever, followed by his owner, who ended 
 by catching him. 
 
 Ont^sime rose free from all harm, rather confused at his fall, but 
 nevertheless laughing at the mishap, while he i:>icked up his helmet, 
 spectacles, and parasol, which lay strewn on the scene of his dis- 
 comfiture. 
 
 The Doctor and Jacques had at once turned bridle, anxious as to 
 the result of the accident ; but the appearance of Onesime, who was 
 on his legs in the twinkling of an eye, completely set them at ease ; 
 and, enlivened by this incident, at which the victim was the first to
 
 102 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 langh, they gave him a little good advice, urged him not to use his 
 stirrups and to follow as much as pos(sible the same road as his 
 animal, and then set off again at a slow trot. 
 
 " Animal I " grumbled Ondsime, looking askew at his donkey boy, 
 " let me catch you warbling your idiotic ' Ah ! ' again, and I'll warm 
 your shoulders for you ! " 
 
 Farther on, a few phlegmatic Englishmen watched them pass. 
 They reached Bulkeley, where the battle of Nicopolis was fought in 
 1801, between the English under Abercromby and the French 
 wretchedly commanded by Menou ; stopped for a minute at Bakos, 
 the commercial centre of Eamleh, where On^sime got over his shock 
 by drinking a large glass of raki and water at the Hotel Pericorne ; 
 then, passing along the side of the Mosque and the shops with broad 
 cloth awnings in the bazaar of the Arab village, they continued 
 through the fields and charming gardens of Seffer, prettily situated at 
 the foot of a rather elevated mound, and reached Schutz Junction. 
 
 Giving their asses a little breathing time, they alighted, and pro- 
 ceeded towards the sea, where are still to be found, half buried in 
 sand, Roman baths hollowed out in the rock of the cliff, and into 
 which water only penetrates by a narrow opening. Onesime would 
 have willingly bathed there if the salutary fear of being devoured by 
 a shark had not prevented him. Far away, on a rather elevated 
 point of earth, the blue mass formed by the abandoned Zizinia Palace 
 stood out against the curtain of palm trees on the Siouf oasis. They 
 soon rejoined their steeds, and, cutting across the fields, proceeded on 
 their way back. 
 
 Lean bullocks, with hanging fetlocks, conducted by little fellaheen, 
 were mancenvring sakiehs, which gave a sharp, hollow, grinding sound 
 as their horizontal brake-wheels were made to revolve. These set 
 in motion a series of other brake-wheels, which, in their turn, drove 
 round perpendicular ones, provided at the extremity of their spokes, 
 on the outer circle, with jars of baked clay, fastened with cords made 
 of palm fibre. The latter, in their constant rotation, scooped up water 
 from the wells by means of their jars, and poured it into basins, from 
 which it ran along narrow gutters, dug at right angles in the earth,
 
 ACROSS THE FIELDS. 
 
 103 
 
 and spread out like the silvery meshes of an immense net covering the 
 entire plain. 
 
 Fellaheen, barely clothed in a pair of cotton drawers, their head 
 covered with a hemispheric sknll-cap in thick white or maroon felt, 
 alternately tilled and emptied the leathern pails of their shadoufs 
 with their copper-coloured arms. The slender cross-beams of these 
 primitive machines, weighted with a rough counterbalance of loamy 
 
 earth kneaded into a ball, and see-sawiug upon pieces of wall built'of 
 dry clay, rose and fell without intermission, drawing from innumerable 
 arteries that beneficent water of the Nile, the foster-father of Egypt, 
 to distribute it afterwards on the hard ground. 
 
 Dusky girls, with long slender hands, tapering fingers, the nails 
 reddened with henna, a corner of their garment between their teeth 
 to hide their faces, pushed flocks of turkeys before them along 
 the borders of the fields. They walked slowly, the head raised, the 
 gaze frank, and copper bangles clanked gently on their delicately 
 moulded ankles.
 
 104 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Fellaheen stopped at their work, leaning on their hoes, smiling 
 with an eternally peaceful smile, and gazing with their great soft 
 eyes. Beside them enormous sheep, dragging, like cannon-balls, the 
 weight of their tails, deformed by a strange growth, raised their sad 
 heads and then turned back ao:ain to browse. 
 
 
 Labourers, with their gowns caught up to their thighs and 
 fastened to the waist by knotted belts, made out of bunches of thin, 
 unplaited strijjs of leather, guided their wooden ploughs, to which 
 oxen with small horns and tawny coats were yoked. Blue herons,
 
 ACROSS THE FIELDS. 
 
 107 
 
 white-throats 
 
 white ibises, hoi^ped behind, and flights of pigeons swooped down 
 around them. 
 
 Larks, lost in the sky, threw forth their light trills 
 were warbling in the grey-green foliaged tama- 
 rinds ; pink - colom-ed flamingoes with curved 
 beaks were stalking tranquilly ; while storks 
 wandered among the rushes ; sedate cormorants, 
 with their eyelids half closed, lost in 
 thought, were resting upright on one leg 
 amidst the reeds ; turtle-doves flew from /•' 
 palm tree to palm tree ; and high ^ 
 
 above, in the azure immensitj', great 
 fawn - coloured vultures described 
 concentric circles. 
 
 They proceeded at a walking 
 pace along the canals, amidst the 
 magnificent vegetation, growing 
 thick and fast beneath this burning 
 sun, in this warm atmosphere, 
 where swarms of flies, clouds of mosquitoes, 
 butterflies of all colours, whirled about in 
 the air, mingling their confused buzzing noise 
 with the thousand dull sounds of radiant nature at work. 
 
 They soon found themselves at Bakos again. There they followed 
 the line, trotting along the narrow margin of the embankment, at the 
 risk of being crushed by a train perceived too late, or of tumbling 
 down the steep declivity to the entanglement of branches, wire netting, 
 rushes, and brushwood covering the swamps slumbering below. Then 
 reaching the beautiful macadamised road, with fountains at every 
 hundred paces, they followed it at a gallop, beneath the shade of its 
 double row of sycamores, passing between plantations of fig trees. 
 Next they went through the village of Kadra, where the ancient 
 Eleusis stood, and re-entered the city by the Rosetta Gate. 
 
 All three were delighted with their little country excursion. 
 One'sime, who had not met with a second spill, considered himself an 
 
 -<im: 
 
 Labourer. 
 
 <i^.
 
 108 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 aocomplislied horseman, "a 
 
 Kosetta Gate. 
 
 real Numidian," lie said ; Le even 
 spoke at the cafe', after having 
 vigorously handled his fork, 
 of enlisting in the hussars 
 on his return to France. 
 Jacques complimented him on 
 this masculine determination ; 
 but Alan, who was more 
 prudent, 
 advised 
 him, before 
 comins: to 
 
 a decision, to wait until he had had experience 
 of a horse, and, above all, of a dromedary, after 
 which he would only be embarrassed as 
 to the choice of the animal that jileased 
 him best. 
 
 At about three o'clock the monoton- 
 ous calls of the muezzins, launched from 
 the height of the minarets, tore them 
 from their delicious siesta, reminding them 
 that they had much still to see; and, 
 like new Wandering Jews, they went out 
 and recommenced rambling about 
 the streets. Z' 
 
 The Doctor first of all con- 
 ducted them near the Mosque 
 of Sheikh Ibrahim, in a dark 
 narrow street, where industrious 
 Arabs, provided simply with a 
 pair of shears, a knife, and a 
 marline-spike, displayed match- 
 less dexterity in weaving mats, 
 cords, halters, and nets to hang- 
 
 at the sides of camels, out of the bo^-rush and the 
 
 A muezzin.
 
 THE MAHMOUDIEH CANAL PROMENADE. 
 
 109 
 
 cortical fibres of the palm. The spike-stalk of the leaf was used to 
 make brooms, cages, stools, and also the kafa, that sort of long cage 
 which, covered with a light mattress, serves Egv-ptians as a bed. Then 
 they hailed a cab and were driven to the Mahmondieh Canal, the 
 favourite promenade of the Alexandrians. 
 
 Fridays and Sundays are the days on which the elegant Christian, 
 Jewish, and Mussulman society of the city assemble there in their 
 costly and handsome carriages purchased at Vienna or Milan ; and in 
 which charming women, in bewitching toilettes, forwarded direct by 
 the best Parisian dressmakers, recline supinely on 
 the cushions, saluted by fashionable horsemen trot- 
 ting amidst the vehicles. Nimble sayces, with 
 naked feet, the chinval falling to the knees, 
 sleeves of floating white muslin, crimson or 
 sky-blue velvet waistcoats, covered with 
 thick gold embroidery, a red cap on the 
 head with a long blue silk tassel striking 
 their shoulders, and a stick in the right hand, 
 jjrecede the equipages, and overtake, inde- 
 fatigable runners that they are, the most 
 high-mettled steeds. Great negroes, with cJieeks 
 slashed with bluish scars, are watering the road ; 
 and the footpaths are encumbered with pedestrians of 
 all races and all shades. Everywhere the tarboush 
 in the way of masculine headgear predominates. 
 
 This promenade, with the long avenue of acacias and sycamores 
 forming for some distance a thick arch which is a guarantee against 
 the sun, is delicious ; and while the Mahmoudieh Canal, which borders 
 it on the one side, affords a pleasant freshness, the masses of foliage 
 about the sumptuous villas which bound it on the other give repose 
 to the fatigued eye, from the dusty whiteness of the city. 
 
 In this line of gardens, that of Moharem-Bey, amongst others, 
 which belongs to Nubar Pacha, the Garden Pastre, that of Antoniades, 
 are really admirable. There grow in full vigour the cactus, aloes, 
 daturas, mimosas with yellow flowers, red euphorbia, acacias, of 
 
 ■--i^ 
 
 A sayce.
 
 110 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 rapid and sometimes gigantic development ; olive trees, bananas full 
 of vitality; here and there large scarlet leaves stand out like great 
 drops of blood in the dark groups of verdure. These barely permit one 
 to catch a glimpse, through a few rare openings that perforate the 
 thick shrubbery, of the barred windows, the high walls of houses mostly 
 inhabited, and behind which imagination assists one vaguely to 
 discern bewitching odalisques and sombre tragic incidents of the 
 harem ; there, also, are banian trees, a single one of which contains 
 generations of forests, and the secondary stems of which, starting from 
 the trunk and branches, grow downward to the earth, which they 
 penetrate, forming new trees which spread indefinitely. 
 
 In the spring the orange and lemon trees shed around their exciting 
 perfumes ; the rose bushes disappear beneath their bloom ; the male 
 palms, trembling in the caresses of the sweet breezes, incline their 
 rounded plumes, shaking in the air the white dust from their fibres, 
 the pollen, which, borne away by the warm breath, goes to fecundate 
 the female palms with the quivering stems. The oleanders, the 
 bougainvilleas with broad trails of rose, the multicoloured pinks, the 
 chrysanthemums, violets, zinnias, jieriwinkles, snapdragons, mignon- 
 nette, pansies, petunias, narcissus, jonquils burst out into tints that 
 are exquisite in their delicacy and variety. 
 
 The transition is sudden when one passes on the other side of the 
 canal. There Egypt commences, the real Egypt, with its poor villages 
 built of clay, cooked and recooked by a burning sun ; with its huts of 
 earth covered with dry sorghum leaves, scattered irregularly here and 
 there ; its caf^s built of loam and straw and rickety planks, where 
 exhausted beggars sleep in sordid rags, where poor peasants devour a 
 doura cake and drink a cup of cofiee. 
 
 Women, in long blue gowns, fetch water in their heavy clay 
 pitchers. 
 
 A ferry-boat goes across. Men returning from work, women with 
 bundles of clothing, camels loaded with sugar-cane, asses bending 
 beneath bulky bags of rice, encumber the deck. The ferryman, an 
 old, muscular Arab, presses in his arm-pit the well-used end, made 
 shiny by usage, of a long pole, the hook of which is buried in the
 
 Incident in the Harem.
 
 THE CANAL BANKS. 
 
 113 
 
 mnd, and, holding it with his two sinewy hands, pushes as he walks 
 along the flat edge of the ferry-boat, which glides slowly towards the 
 other bank. 
 
 Naked children, with their head shaved with the exception of a 
 little tufted lock on the summit of the skull, begrimed with mud or 
 grey with dust, dabble on the shore or roll on the bank ; emaciated, 
 surly dogs rummage in the ground, or bark in a lugubrious way ; 
 large boats, loaded with corn, carrying a whole family sheltered 
 
 The Mabmoudieh Canal. 
 
 beneath an old piece of cloth stretched out tight, meet beautiful, 
 well-appointed yachts ; old dahabiehs, with their cabins and sterns 
 immoderately elevated, their massive rudders, their long lateen-yards 
 and triangular sails, resembling sick old sea-mews, slowly pass ; 
 weighty barges follow the banks, towed along by camels, or by the 
 bargemen chanting in a nasal tone a monotonous complaint. 
 
 Large grey buffaloes, with horns curling backward, little hair, 
 wrinkled skins, thrust their shining snouts out of the water ; from 
 time to time a grey heron, which has been disturbed, escapes from the
 
 114: THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 reeds ; a plover flies off with a quick jerk of the wiug ; while voracious 
 white Pharaoh's chickens hover overhead, watching vsdth their piercing 
 eyes a prey on which to fall ; taciturn pelicans perched on one leg, 
 keeping th eir beaks warm beneath the down of their wings, are 
 reposing amongst the papyrus near a blue lotus, the plant dear to the 
 Pharaohs, which one finds engraved everywhere on the walls of their 
 temples. This plant, male and female, whose calyx is the maternal 
 breast of the august Rhea, which sees the mystery of the union of 
 Osiris and Isis accomplished in that of stamen and pistil, that symbol 
 of immortality, of the earth again watered by the Nile, of the creation 
 of the universe by the waters, the emblem of Phallus and Myllus 
 united one to the other, is similar to the Joni-lingam of the Hindoos ! 
 
 And far away extends the luminous country of Egypt, losing itself 
 in the admirable transparency of bluish distance. 
 
 In the evening they were almost alone at the hotel, with a few 
 unknown new-comers : the Cook and Son packages had been despatched 
 the previous evening for Cairo ; Sir Hugh and Miss Madge had left 
 the day of their arrival, as well as the Americans, and were installed 
 at Shepheard's Hotel ; " Us " had disappeared in the morning, pro- 
 ceeding to Tantah ; some of the other passengers of the Said were 
 distributed in the different hotels of the city — at the Hotel Abbat, the 
 Messageries, and others ; the remainder, composed of persons employed 
 at Alexandria coming back from their holidays, or of merchants, had 
 returned, the former to their desks, the latter to their business. 
 
 Jacques and Onesime had seen nearly all that was interesting in 
 Alexandria, thanks to Alan Keradec. Jacques, whose aj)petite was 
 sharpened by this first glance at the East, aspired to penetrate it 
 further ; Onesime agreed to everything ; the Doctor had delayed his 
 departure for Upper Egypt to be with the two friends a few days. 
 Briefly, they decided by common accord that they would leave without 
 delay for Cairo ; they talked a little, smoked a few pipes, puffed some 
 cigarettes, and separated early to fasten up their portmanteaux. 
 
 The next morning, at 9.30, they were at the Cairo railway station, 
 where the Doctor, at Jacques' earnest request, took three third-class 
 tickets. He wished to see the fellaheen at close quarters. Onesime
 
 T„}k.4i^- 
 
 Women fetching water.
 
 KEEADEC, JACQUES, AND ONESIME TAKE TICKETS FOR CAIRO. 117 
 
 pouted a bit on seating himself on the hard seats of the carriage, where 
 a central alley allowed of passengers walking up and down, and placed 
 himself as far away as possible from a group of Arabs who were 
 engaged, on their own persons, in a hunt that was as determined as it 
 was fruitful. 
 
 The whistle of the locomotive blew ; the train was set in motion. 
 They would soon see the pyramids.
 
 View of Cairo. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Desert sand in the carriage. — Lake Mareotis. — The Delta country. — Kafr-Dawr. 
 —Baksheesh. — Damanhonr. — Tel-el- Barout, — Kafr-el-Zaiat. — Tantah.— The 
 carriage is invaded. — Onesime's suffering and regret. — Benha-'l-Assal. — The 
 travellers breathe a little. — Touck. — The pyramids ! — The Mokattam. — 
 Khalioub. — Cairo.^The arrival. — A turn in the Esbekieh. — On^sime imagines 
 himself in Paris. — The crocodile quarter. — By the light of the moon. — On^sime 
 sulks with Osiris. — His tenderness for Isis. 
 
 f I ^HE houses and villas disappear, and fine, impalpable sand pene- 
 -L trates through all the openings of the carriage, which is devoid 
 of glass. It falls on everything : the travellers swallow it ; breathe 
 it ; get it into the eyes, the ears ; one's clothes are covered with it. 
 You shake yourself, dust yourself, wipe yourself. Labour lost ! It is 
 necessary to begin again five minutes afterwards. The Arabs wrap 
 themselves in their rugs ; the Doctor lets himself be sanded like the 
 Sphinx, without a frown ; Ondsime grumbles, sports his spectacles, and 
 covers his head with his handkerchief ; Jacques stands the avalanche 
 without a murmur. 
 
 On the left, turning the back to Alexandria, the Mahmoudieh Canal, 
 dotted with boats, runs parallel to the line, with the Aboukir Lake in 
 the distance. 
 
 On the right, the sun glitters on Lake Mareotis, now an immense 
 
 118
 
 LAKE MAKEOTIS THE DELTA COUNTKY. HQ 
 
 expanse of lagunes, formerly a wide basiu dug out into large ports, 
 containing innumerable fleets and bordered by fine country houses 
 by superb vineyards, yielding a delicious wine, that was highly 
 appreciated in ancient times. 
 
 For a moment the line, like a regular jetty, advances into the 
 middle of the lake ; the water splashes against the embankment on 
 either side ; then the Mareotis disappears, and the luxuriant country 
 spreads out on either side. 
 
 The corn is waving as far as the eye can see, with squares of lucern 
 standing out in raw green on its blond ground ; fields of linseed, 
 indigo, sugar-cane, alternate with patches of motley-coloured poppies ; 
 vigorous vines, with powerful shoots, creep over long arbours made 
 of reeds, and cotton plants display their white fleece on the frail 
 entanglement of their withered-looking branches ; innumerable canals, 
 glittering like silver, run through all this fertility. 
 
 The wheels of the sa/dehs turn without intermission ; the beams of 
 the shadoufs rise and fall incessantly ; and the patient fellaheen, bent 
 over the ground, work— for the Khedive, to whom the greater part of 
 these lands of the Delta belongs. 
 
 Buffaloes, buried in the water up to the breast, take long drinks, 
 then remain motionless, the neck extended, the head stretched forward, 
 bathing their big forms in this attitude ; others, guarded by a 
 mere child, browse in a field or meadow, in company with herons, 
 bullock-keepers, some of whom have the impudence to perch on their 
 backs. Here and there is a picketed cow or a lean goat, and swarms 
 of pigeons everywhere. 
 
 The train follows, without deviation, the bank of a canal which 
 runs beside the high road ; there is a continuous passing of men, 
 women, animals : an Arab galloping on his horse ; a group of 
 fellaheen in good humour returning from a village ; a woman loaded 
 with a heavy bundle toiling painfully along, a child astride on the 
 shoulder, others clinging to her skirt ; stout peasants in easy circum- 
 stances trotting on little asses, which they strike with one end of a 
 sugar-cane, while they gnaw the other. Files of camels pass by, each 
 of them with his head attached to the tail of the one i^receding him ;
 
 120 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 others walk along at a swinging pace, balancing their bales of cotton, 
 their bundles of sngar-caue ; a few, kneeling at the side of the road, 
 
 On the route. 
 
 groan deeply while their masters load them, and others that are quite 
 young gambol at their side.
 
 KAFE-DAWB. 
 
 121 
 
 Villages follow villages, always the same : the hovels of poor 
 fellaheen, of Nile mud kneaded into a cubic form, with branches and 
 palm leaves for roofs ; houses of well-to-do peasants, in brick made of 
 broken straw and clay mixed together and baked in the sun, placed 
 against high towers which are gigantic pigeon-houses. 
 
 Goats sleep before the doors ; dogs rummage among the heaps 
 of refuse that are rotting in the middle 
 of the road, or contend with vultures 
 for a carcass abandoned in the vicinity. 
 Enormous tamarinds shelter with their 
 shade these humble refuges grouped' 
 beneath their giant branches. Date trees 
 tower up among lebakhs of India 
 and caroub trees, and acacias 
 covered with long bunches of 
 flower perfume the neighbour- 
 hood. 
 
 The train stops at Kafr- 
 Dawr ; the dust diminishes, one 
 sees better. Women with baskets 
 of oranges on their heads ap- 
 proach the carriage ; young girls offer 
 pitchers of cool water ; blind men, 
 leaning on long sticks, implore the 
 pity of travellers ; and an army of 
 beggars and urchins jump on to the 
 steps of the carriages, hang on to 
 the doors, and deafen one with their 
 demands for gratuities. " Bak- 
 sheesh I " mutter the bass voices of 
 the old people. " Baksheesh I " harshly resound those of adults. 
 " Baksees I " squall out younger throats. " Bassis I " lisp the infantine 
 tongues of urchins. " Sis ! " prattle brats hardly weaned. 
 
 This demand for a present or a gratuity, of baksheesh in fact, 
 is the rallying cry of Egypt against the foreigner ; henceforth it 
 
 Arab village.
 
 122 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 will resonnd in his ears from the Mediterranean to the confines of 
 Xubia. 
 
 Second stoppage at Damanhour, the old city of 
 Horns, the little Apollinojjolis of the Greeks, where 
 Bonaparte, who preceded the army with a weak escort, 
 narrowly escaped being carried off by a party of 
 Mamelukes. 
 
 Zyf^~^ A branch-line on the left goes to Dessouk, where 
 
 -i,^// rose, farther towards the west, the ancient Naukratis, 
 which, previous to the founding of Alexandria, was 
 the only city in Egypt open to the Greeks for residence 
 and trade. 
 
 After a short stay at Tel-el-Barout, the junction of 
 the railways of Upper Egypt, the train starts again. 
 It crosses, with a rumbling sound like thunder, the 
 iron bridge thrown over the Rosetta branch of the 
 Nile, near the village 
 of Daharieh, and stops 
 
 Kight signalman. ^r £ -\ rj -j. 
 
 at Kafr-el-Zaiat, 
 where, taking advantage of a break 
 in the journey of twenty minutes, the 
 three friends take a snack at the buffet, 
 regretting that thev cannot visit the ruins 
 of Sais, situated a quarter of an hour 
 distant. 
 
 They are soon at Tantah, where the 
 fairs, particularly that in honour of Seyed- 
 Ahmed-el-Bedaoui, recall in a coarser 
 way the scandalous saturnalias of an- 
 tiquity. A multitude of fellaheen, of 
 women, of Bedouins, await the train ; 
 they precipitate themselves upon the car- 
 riages, which they literally take by assault, 
 even before the train has stopped ; bursting 
 in all together by the doors, which open 
 
 -^» 
 
 Young Bedouin girl selling water.
 
 ONESIME S SUFFERING AND REGEET. 
 
 123 
 
 at either end of the oue compartment, thus preventing those who have 
 reached their destination leaving, they pile them- 
 selves on one another, pushing, swearing, fighting, 
 amidst bags, bundles of all sorts, cages full of 
 fowls, young turkeys fastened by the feet — 
 all these heaped up, pell-mell, in one human 
 avalanche : it is a regular Noah's Ark ! A few 
 who have not found room in the inside 
 climb on to the roofs of the carriages, 
 and, notwithstanding the stones which 
 the employes throw at them to make 
 them come down, spread themselves out 
 flat on their bellies and obstinately refuse 
 to move. 
 
 The three friends defend 
 themselves as best they can 
 against this invasion, bring- 
 ing with it rank smells of 
 sweating flesh, of the 
 
 droppings of buffaloes, of sick poultry. Half suf- 
 focated, they succeed with great trouble in keeping a 
 part of their places. 
 ^tjf JyUo Onesime, crushed against the woodwork on oue 
 y'lj^^^^ side, is flanked on the other by a stout Armenian 
 schoolmaster with bleary eyes ; a Bedouin woman, 
 whose smile, stereotyped on her face, very much 
 ig I \\ irritates him, is squatting at his feet. She holds in 
 / / /li her arms a dirty little black pig, which grunts con- 
 tinually, and on her knees an enormous bundle. At 
 every moment Onesime sees the horrible little animal 
 rub its wet snout against him ; sometimes even, to 
 his extreme terror, he fancies he feels its teeth in 
 search of his calves. The Doctor is no better off. 
 -^4^, There is no possibility of moving ; they are 
 A signalman. immurcd, packed up like herrings I Onesime is 
 
 ^- -^- 
 
 A pointsman.
 
 124 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 furious ; at a look of reproach that he casts on Jacques— as badly 
 treated as himself— the latter answers liim by that remark of 
 Guatimozin on his gridiron : " And me, am I on a bed of roses ? " 
 
 At Birket-es-Sab half of the fellaheen get out, which is a relief ; 
 the carriage, none the less, remains comi)letely full. They cross the 
 Damietta branch of the river, and at Benha-'l-Assal— where, a little 
 to the north-east, are the ruins of Athribis— a second lot decamp ; 
 
 Village in the Delta. 
 
 the three friends breathe, and On^sime, at length freed from the 
 Armenian, from the Bedouin, from her pig and her bundle, stretches 
 himself with a sigh of satisfaction. 
 
 " Ye gods ! If you ever catch me again taking ' thirds ' — in 
 Egypt — I'll be roasted," he exclaims, grumbling ; then he breathes 
 hard, and mops his forehead. 
 
 " Like you are now," answers Jacques, laughing at Onesime 
 trickling with perspiration, which by a thousand streams has found a
 
 TOUCK THE PYBAMIDS. 125 
 
 way through the sand which the wind had deposited on his face. 
 " You look like a monument disappearing under the sand, or being 
 submerged in an inundation/' 
 
 " It's very funny, is it not ? And you think it's amusing to travel 
 like this, covered with sand, suffocated, crushed ! " 
 
 " But you have seen the fellaheen at close quarters." 
 " Alas ! " 
 
 " And have been able to study them at your ease," 
 " Yes, at my ease ! Between a fat, stinking, bleary-eyed fellow, 
 who flattened me against the side of the carriage, and that creature 
 tattooed blue, with hands green with muck, the owner of that horror 
 of a little aggressive negro pig, her suckling ; that's what you call 
 ease ! And all that to make nice, pretty, intimate little studies of 
 life. Well, my dear fellow, in future you can make them all alone, 
 your studies of life — at least, of that kind ; I have had enough of 
 them ! " 
 
 " Have patience ! " says Jacques ; "in an hour we shall be at 
 Cairo." 
 
 " Fortunately ! " 
 
 Little by little the plain becomes less green, the valley is contracted. 
 At Touck the pyramids, roseate beneath the sun, appear on the right, 
 through the palm trees, against the yellow tones of the Libyan desert; 
 to the left, on the arid groundwork of the Arabian desert, are the 
 heights of Mokattam, with the Citadel and the Mosque of Mahomet Ali, 
 the dome of which shines brilliantly between its two tapering minarets. 
 At Khalioub one perceives to the west the great brick towers 
 of the Barrage of the Nile ; to the south a forest of minarets, of 
 cupolas, of white walls ; the train enters the suburbs of Cairo ; 
 villages appear, and villas. We have arrived ! 
 
 Amidst deafening cries and furious pushing, the three friends 
 possess themselves of a cab, which takes them to the Hotel dAlexaudrie 
 in the Esbekieh quarter, where the landlord, a friend of Kdradec, a 
 charming man, formerly holding a post in the Suez Canal Company, 
 installs them in clean and spacious rooms; and he finds Jacques, 
 besides, a large apartment facing north for a studio.
 
 126 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 After vigorous and repeated ablutions, the travellers, free from 
 sand and refreshed, go, guided by K^radec, for a turn in the Esbekieh 
 Garden — formerly a lake, surrounded by trees and habitations ; at 
 present, after successive metamorphoses, a landscape garden of a 
 rectangular form, with the corners cut off, surrounded by iron railings 
 and tastefully laid out. A basin, with swans and ducks, has succeeded 
 the lake where the old sycamores reflected their thick foliage, and 
 European hotels have taken the place of the picturesque houses lost 
 in shady lanes. A restaurant d la carte stands on the spot where 
 slowly turned a sakieh manoeuvred by buffaloes ; 
 Europeans walk along carefully- sanded paths, 
 where Arabs of the desert, perched on their 
 camels, passed in the dust of the roadway. 
 
 This oasis is none the less a very delightful 
 cool nook, with its strange trees brought from the 
 interior of Africa by Doctor Schweinfurth, its blocks 
 of foliage and green lawns, beneath the limpid blue 
 Egyptian sky, the magnificent Eastern sun, which 
 bathes all its green freshness in the pure trans- 
 parency of its radiant light. 
 
 What affects the eyes disagreeably, and con- 
 tributes to take away what still remains of the 
 Oriental in this half-Haussmannised quarter, are 
 the modern establishments installed in the garden : 
 cafes, beershops, restaurants, photographic pavi- 
 lions, etc. ; the gardeners with their long pipes on wheels recall to you 
 the watering men in the streets of Paris ; the river emptying itself 
 into the lake, its waterfall and the artificial grotto surmounted by its 
 belvedere, make you think of the Bois de Boulogne ; and when from 
 four to nine o'clock at night a military band performs its European 
 repertory, you could easily believe you were in the Tuileries gardens. 
 
 Jacques noticed with regret this clumsy imitation of the manners, 
 this commonplace adaptation of the industry of pale Europe in the 
 former capital of the Arab civilisation, now accepting with passion the 
 vices of the West, but refractory to assimilate its virtues. Onesime 
 
 An infantry
 
 A TUBN IN THE ESBEKIEH. 
 
 127 
 
 chattered like a magpie, liajDpy to find in the land of the Pharaohs 
 something to remind him of his dear Paris. The restaurant, especially, 
 attracted him in an irresistible way ; the three friends took their meal 
 there, and this finished putting him in a good humour ; when they saun- 
 tered along the walks, after coffee, with cigcirs only removed to let out 
 lively words and laughter between the lips, he was beaming with joy. 
 
 Stealthy shadows passed by — veiled women, whom Ondsime eyed 
 with most impertinent conceit ; men in silk gowns of various colours, 
 government clerks in tarboush and 
 stambouline, soldiers dressed in white. 
 The Venetian lanterns and the lamps 
 hooked to the awnings of the Arab 
 cafes mingled their dull red gleams 
 with the brilliant light of numerous 
 gas - burners. Beneath these tents, 
 sheltering Arab orchestras, daraboukas 
 were droning, rebecks grating, guitars 
 squeaking, blended with the harsh, 
 piercing voices of the singers, ap- 
 plauded by the prolonged "Ah!" of 
 their enthusiastic admirers. 
 
 From there K^radec took them to 
 the centre of the Arab town ; they were 
 lost in streets, where they could hardly 
 walk two abreast ; in broader ones, 
 where heavily loaded camels flattened 
 them against the walls, where donkeys 
 crushed their feet ; they stumbled over formless heaps of rags, which 
 were the bodies of wretched creatures sleej)ing in the darkest corners ; 
 then they all at once emerged into streets teeming with people. 
 
 Lanterns of all forms and sizes, hooked on to the fronts of rudi- 
 mentary shops, brightly lit up the goods set out there with their 
 streams of vacillating light. Here a fruiterer was seated in the 
 midst of the vegetables, water-melons, melongenas, oranges, lemons, 
 encumbering his stall, four feet in breadth ; there a saddler was 
 
 A street in Cairo.
 
 128 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 actively engaged in finishing a magnificent sky-blue velvet saddle 
 enriched with gold ; farther on a tobacconist was enjoying his 
 uarghileh, and speaking ill of his neighbour to a few customers 
 with long tongues ; a woman was crushing corn between two mill- 
 stones, while her husband idly smoked his tchibouk. 
 
 They turned the corner of a street, and suddenly passed into the 
 deep obscurity of the narrow alleys, bordered by lofty houses, where 
 the succession ''of corbels, of balconies, of moucharabiehs rose up in 
 
 flights along the walls, hardly 
 leaving space right at the top 
 for one to perceive a square 
 of the heavens sprinkled with 
 stars. A few rare lamps lit up, 
 with their dying and indistinct 
 light, the capricious arabesques, 
 delicately picked out, that 
 adorned the wooden casing of 
 monumental doors, before which 
 swung stuffed crocodiles and 
 hijjpopotami. 
 
 Strange shadows glided 
 silently by ; great thin cats 
 brushed against their legs or 
 slid along the walls ; vague 
 forms disappeared in gaping 
 apertures ; their footsteps, muf- 
 fled by a thick coating of dust, made no sound ; they barely heard, like 
 an indistinct murmur, the hum of the stirring street they had quitted, 
 which a vaporous glimmer of light indicated in the distance. 
 
 They were stranded in blind alleys, frightful passages without 
 egress, amid houses that had tiunbled in, where the quivering beams, 
 suspended in space, threatened at each instant to fall down on their 
 heads. They groped about on the rubbish, stumbled among the ruins, 
 climbed over heaps of stones, avoided the sinister openings of caved-in 
 cellars. 
 
 
 o- 
 
 A woman cnishing com.
 
 A Saddler.
 
 THE CROCODILE QUAETEE. 
 
 131 
 
 Other narrow streets in the Crocodile quarter had an appearance 
 as accentuated, but of quite another aspect : there, high carved doors 
 were half open ; on the thresholds, women belonging to all races 
 simply attired in a kamis of a raw colour, red, olive, or lemon-yellow 
 very low at the neck, smoked cigarettes. 
 
 Little negresses from Kordofan, 
 supple, shiny, with flexible loms, hard, 
 pear-shaped breasts, firm stomachs, 
 monkeys' hands, naked delicate feet, 
 ornamented with massive silver rings, 
 soon blended with the shades of 
 night ; the whiteness of their teeth, 
 when they laughed, made a bright 
 flash indicating the place 
 of their heads. ~^' 
 
 Fellaheen women, of 
 a caressing nature, with a 
 smile of resignation, tall, 
 light, slender, tattooed 
 with blue on the forehead 
 and chin, leaning tlieir 
 backs against the wall, 
 were chatting with obese 
 Turkish women with thick 
 eyelids, eyes enlarged by anti- 
 mony, fat fingers covered with 
 rings, massive legs, heavy feet 
 encased in white stockings and cramped in Parisian boots with high, 
 worn-down heels. 
 
 Thin Jewesses, with olive complexions, aquiline noses, blood-red 
 lips, brilliant eyes beneath hollow arched brows, of a gloomy coun- 
 tenance, troubled the passer-by with the intensity of their burning 
 look. 
 
 Young Nubians modulated a plaintive song in a strange rhythm, 
 gazing witli their great wild eyes, ot a golden brown, wide open. 
 
 Fellaheen women.
 
 132 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 and showed in their whole manner something of the frightened air 
 of the gazelle of their deserts. 
 
 Through the gaping doorway one perceived other women inside 
 stretched out on mats. Near a chiselled bronze brasero old matrons, 
 squatting down, in black gowns, the collar being embroidered with 
 silver, the head covered by a veil, approached their fleshless hands 
 
 Old matrons. 
 
 to the fire, seeking a little warmth for their old blood grown cokL 
 Motionless in a corner a sickly fellah, the shame-faced servant, gazed 
 without seeing with his sparkless eyes ! 
 
 They increased their pace. The cafds succeeded each other in 
 the street, badly lighted, swarming with Arabs close together on 
 dislocated forms ; performers on rebecks deliciously tickled the ears
 
 ONESIME SULKS WITH OSIEIS. 135 
 
 of tlieir audience, alternatively with j'oung ulemas of the Mosque of 
 El Azhar, who attempted to recite delightful stories of their own 
 composition before a good-natured public, who received them with 
 flattering applause. Tea, perfumed with a piece of amber fixed at the 
 bottom of the cup, and coflFee, were passed round amidst the smoke of 
 tchibouks, cigarettes, and narghilehs. 
 
 In the streets, at every hundred paces, soldiers in iron-grey cloaks, 
 with a tarboush on the head, the rifle slung across the shoulder, were 
 smoking cigarettes and watching over public order. 
 
 Keradec soon brought his friends into the Rue du Moaski, and from 
 there to the Esbekieh. 
 
 It was a splendid night ; the stars shone in the heavens with soft 
 lustre, imperceptibly veiled by a slight transparent vapour, hardly 
 disturbing the admirable purity of the atmosphere ; it enveloped the 
 trees, the houses, the distances, with its diffuse light, accentuating the 
 masses, softening the outlines, casting everywhere a sort of bluish, 
 velvety glaze, exquisitely limpid and of extraordinary softness to 
 the eye. 
 
 Decidedly the blinding ferocity of the tone of the brilliant Osiris, 
 God of the Sun, was not equal to the downy touches and serene 
 amplitude of his adorable companion, the gentle Isis, Queen of Night. 
 Such, at least, was the opinion of On^sime : he considered that His 
 Majesty the Sun became embarrassing, and did a little too much as he 
 liked with poor mortality, whom he pitilessly roasted. Like a gallant 
 Parisian, all his sympathy was given to good Isis, the Lady of cool 
 evenings, the dispenser of healthy repose. 
 
 They strolled round the square, passed, at the angle of the Boulak 
 Avenue, before the house where Bonaparte, during the Egyptian 
 campaign, had established his headquarters, and, a little higher up, 
 before the palace of the Defterdar-Bey, opposite to which Kleber fell 
 under the dagger of a fanatic. 
 
 Five minutes later they were back at the hotel. Ke'radec, whose 
 slumbers were disturbed by visions of the laurels secured by Maspe'ro, 
 had only a short time to remain at Cairo and devote to his young 
 friends ; he traced out their itinerary for the following days. On the
 
 136 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 morrow they would visit Heliopolis, returning by way of the petrified 
 forest ; then would come the turn of Memphis and the Pyramids ; on 
 the fourth day he had to take the train to Assiout, and from there, by 
 the postal boat, reach Luxor, where he was to be joined later on by 
 Jacques and Onesime.
 
 The Pymmids as seen from the Nile. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 Monsieur de Lesseps. — Telegraph and Gambetta. — Bismarck is beaten bv 
 ]\Ionsieur de Lesseps.— In the garden of Matarieh. — A picnic— The obeUsk of 
 Usertesen I. and the Virgin's Tree.— The battle of Heliopolis.— Retrospective 
 glance at Heliopolis. — One'sime considers that the ancient Egyptians were 
 madmen and the Greeks cracked with genius.— He will not admit that Greek 
 civilisation was the offspring of that of the Egyptians. — He reproaches the 
 learned with having at times too much science. — The Egyptians invented 
 powder. — Causes of the greatness and decline of the Egyptians. — The petrified 
 forest. — What One'sime thinks of hypotheses. — Jacques a deicide. — Ke'radec 
 pretends that if God hides his abode it is because he desires to preserve his 
 incognito, and that it would be wrong to seek to disturb him. — Different 
 hypotheses upon the petrified forest : that of One'sime. — A dash into the 
 desert. — Return to Cairo. 
 
 rr^HE next morning they had hardly reached the threshold of the 
 -■- hotel, when they were surrounded by a regular army of donkey 
 boys in light-coloured turbans, red skull caps, blue or white gowns, 
 showing glimpses of silk waistcoats with coloured stripes. They 
 pushed each other as hard as they could, and, by counter-shock, 
 involuntarily knocked up against their future customers. There were 
 shouts of laughter, exclamations, a flood of prodigious words ; they 
 quarrelled among themselves for the three friends, pulling them by 
 their garments, seating them almost by force on their animals. 
 
 " Good donkey, sir," said one of them to Jacques, whom he 
 
 137
 
 138 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 endeavoured to appropriate to himself. " Fine ass ! Good moke ! 
 Goes like lightning ; Empress's donkey ! ' Gambetta ' goes like steam. 
 Take my ass, Monsieur le Comte ! Take Ahmed— good donkey boy^ 
 
 Ahmed ! " 
 
 Jaccpies allowed them to do as they pleased, laughing. He was 
 amused at the sight of this animated pantomime, of this exuberance of 
 o-esture and cries. The expressive features, the intelligent physio- 
 o-nomies, the iunate elegance of these young fellaheen, their noisy 
 
 Donkey boys of Cairo. 
 
 gaiety, their constant good humour, all this " dash " of good spirits^ 
 interested him. He gave his preference to " Gambetta," a handsome 
 black donkey, clean, shining, with a fine head, a flexible neck, and 
 seated himself in the high saddle made of red leather, sewn with 
 yellow silk ; Ahmed took possession of his album, water-colour box, 
 camp-stool, and, sure of his conquest, threw upon his comrades a 
 superb look of satisfaction. 
 
 Ke'radec had taken, not without difficulty on the part of the 
 turbulent band, the ass of a poor little Arab, who, after having
 
 DONKEY BOYS OF CAIEO. 139 
 
 contended despairingly with his big companions to approach the 
 travellers, had ended by abandoning a useless struggle, and, standing 
 apart, a butt to the jeers of his turbulent associates, was shedding 
 warm tears, while cuddling the head of his poor donkey. The animal 
 seemed to join in his grief, and softly wiped away, with his tongue, 
 the shower of tears that trickled down the cheeks of the unhappy 
 little Abdallah. When the last-named saw Kdradec approach and 
 jump on '^ Telegraph," his tears dried up in the twinkling of an eye. 
 He gave a leap ; " Telegraph," out of fellow-feeling, did the same, 
 and the Doctor was almost unseated ! 
 
 Onesime was the envied prey of two donkey boys, each of whom 
 pulled him his own way, and would not let him go. One of them, 
 Hassan, placed the reins in his hand, and endeavoured to hoist him 
 into the saddle of " Monsieur de Lesseps." His companion, Ali, on the 
 other hand, did his utmost to put one of his feet into " Bismarck's " 
 stirrup, and seized him by the arm to tear him from his rival. Victory 
 remained with Hassan and " Monsieur de Lesseps," a beautiful 
 grey ass, on whom the clipper's scissors, no doubt in honour of the 
 great name he bore, had cut out capricious arabesques, coquettishly 
 displayed on the shoulders, and on the thighs and legs. " Monsieur de 
 Lesseps " was really very bewitching, with his open woven stockings 
 and embroidered mittens ; a sort of little rebellious tuft waved proudly 
 on the tojj of his head, and small tassels of the same quivered at the 
 extremity of his ears. 
 
 Onesime, worthy and imposing, fixed in his saddle, was proud 
 of his mount, and the latter, without doubt, was proud of the noble 
 appearance of his rider. 
 
 Hassan, like a thrifty fellah, had removed his babouches and 
 held them in his hand ; Onesime formally recommended him to put 
 away his plaintive " Ah I " along with his babouches, under the 
 penalty of not receiving baksheesh if he disobeyed, and, for greater 
 security, mindful of his misadventure at Ramleh, he borrowed his 
 stick. 
 
 " Bismarck," beaten, returned with drooping ears, with Ali, among 
 the group of rejected donkey boys. Onesime had begun the revenge
 
 140 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 under happy auspices : " Monsieur de Lesseps " had beaten Bismarck ; 
 France had won the first heat ! 
 
 The scuflfle was at an end. Once the riders in their saddles, 
 the squadron swayed, then started off at a gallop, raising a cloud 
 of dust, in the direction of Heliopolis, amidst the sonorous shouts 
 of " Guarda I yaminec ! choumalec ! " of the donkey boys running 
 behind the animals ; the passers-by made way in the road, leaving 
 the place free to the spirited cavalcade launched at fall speed. 
 
 They were soon on the road to Abassieh. Turning to the left, 
 they crossed the Khalig ; arrived in front of the former Mosque 
 of Gama-el-Dhaber, transformed into a guard-house ; then fell into 
 the old road to Abassieh, bordered by acacias, which passed in 
 front of the massive Palace of the same name, comprising the 
 Polytechnic School, the Military School, the Observatory, and 
 close to which was the old racecourse. 
 
 After a brief halt the party, slackening speed, follows the edge 
 of the desert ; the road is dry, dusty, the air hot, the sun strikes 
 fiercely. Onesime, forming the rearguard, cooks gently in his juice, 
 notwithstanding his parasol; Jacques' back is roasted; Keradec is 
 at the head, with the happy Abdallah skipping, chattering, beside 
 him, di^^ding his careful attentions between the Doctor and 
 " Telegraph," who behaves very worthily, like an ass that feels 
 that he has a man of learning on his back. They breathe a little 
 when, leaving the border of the desert, they come into the lane, 
 bordered by a hedge of lemon trees, which leads to the Viceroy's 
 Palace. From that point the road crosses the fertile and well- 
 cultivated plain of Matarieh, all covered with magnificent gardens, 
 and at last they stop at that of the Virgin's Tree. This, with the 
 fields surrounding it, is watered by a sakieh which draws up the 
 element from the bottom of a well ; they put foot to ground close 
 to the palings that surround Mary's sycamore. 
 
 After having rested here for a moment in the shade of the old 
 tree, with its mutilated trunk, which is covered with all sorts' of in- 
 scriptions, Keradec and Jacques went for a stroll in the environs. 
 Onesime made Hassan bring him a jug of fresh cool water, took
 
 Street in Cairo.
 
 IN THE GARDEN OF MATAEIEH. 
 
 143 
 
 some long draughts from it, then stretched himself out comfortably 
 ou the grass in the shade of the acacias, and, his head covered 
 with his pocket-handkerchief, as a protection against mosquitoes, 
 awaited the return of his two friends. Ahmed and Ahdallah, 
 installed some distance oiF, took a few bits of bread from their 
 pockets, and began munching it beside their unbridled animals. 
 
 y/i^j-i 
 
 4> <^'i^''* 
 
 _-«' ' 
 
 / 4^. 
 
 The Virgin's Tree. 
 
 AVhen Alan and Jacques returned, after having had a look at 
 the obelisk, recognised a few vestiges of inferior temples, and met 
 with some remains of sphinxes, they found One'sime sleeping like 
 one of the blessed, and Abdallah was doing the same between 
 the legs of " Telegraph " ; Hassan, after having wiped " Monsieur 
 de Lesseps " and watered him, was giving him some crusts of bread
 
 144 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 while fondling his good old head ; Ahmed had removed the saddle 
 from " Gambetta " and was rolling on the ground with him, a 
 game that seemed to please both of them a great deal. 
 
 The provisions were placed on a nice white table-cloth, spread in 
 the shade of a grove of lemon and orange trees, on the ground, by 
 Hassan, who had appointed himself butler to the expedition, ^hile 
 Ahmed brought a pitcher full of limpid water, drawn at the well 
 of the neighbouring sakieh. They awoke On^sime, and a smile 
 overspread his jovial face at the tempting sight of the table set out 
 and of his two friends only waiting for him to commence the feast. 
 
 In this shady corner, cool, perfumed, they made a repast of 
 sybarites. The excellent coffee that the ingenious Hassan had 
 prepared was served by him and received with enthusiasm ; then, 
 with the cheerful calm and benevolent serenity of persons who have 
 a clear conscience, a full stomach, robust health, and an inexhaustible 
 fund of good humour, the three Gauls began to talk nonsense in 
 the most amiable and witty manner imaginable. Alan rolled 
 cigarettes and risked the most daring hypotheses ; Jacques, between a 
 couple of puffs of his pipe, rivalled him in ardour, piling paradoxes on 
 paradoxes ; Onesime blissfully followed with the eye the bluish spiral 
 smoke of his cigar, an occupation that seemed to interest him infinitely 
 more than the fantastic speculations of his two neighbours. 
 
 They at last tore themselves away, with regret, from this sweet 
 retreat. The trio lazily made their way, across some insignificant 
 ruins, towards the unique monument of Usertesen. 
 
 " But, Doctor, you have brought us into a regular wasps' nest," 
 said Onesime, pointing to the monolith, covered with the nests of the 
 mason-wasp. 
 
 " This wasps' nest, Monsieur Ondsime, is the most ancient obelisk 
 known in Egypt ; and here we are on the spot where formerly stood, 
 in all its splendour, the most ancient city in the world." 
 
 "And of this old and snperb city," inquired Jacques, "there 
 remains nothing, nothing but this obelisk and these few ruins ? " 
 
 " Nothing but this vienkir, of a geometric form, with architectural 
 -pretensions ? " continued Onesime.
 
 OBELISK OF USEETESEN I. AND THE VIKGIN's TREE. 145 
 
 " Nothing ! The wish of Amenemhat I., the founder of the Temple 
 of the Sun, who exclaimed, on laying the foundation stone : ' Let it not 
 be destroyed in any space of time ! Once completed let it last ! ' was 
 not realised ; and the heinous prediction of Jeremiah, the prophet of 
 the Jews, Hhose vile Asiatics, those accursed, those leprous, those 
 pestiferous creatures,' as the Egyptians reviled them, was un- 
 fortunately accomplished ! 
 
 " Chap, xliii., ver. 13 : 'He will also break the statues of the house 
 of the Sun, which is in the laud of Egypt, and ,.-% 
 he will burn with fire the houses of the gods 
 of Egypt.' 
 
 " Only the obelisk of Usertesen I., es- 
 caped from the anger of the God of the Jews, 
 put into effect by the vandalism of the Arabs, 
 has remained to indicate the site of the 
 venerable city, near that sycamore, in the 
 shade of which, according to the legend, the 
 Virgin and the infant Christ rested during 
 the flight to Egypt, and in the 
 hollow trunk of which they hid 
 themselves to avoid those sent in 
 pursuit of them ; a spider, that 
 had spun its web at the opening, 
 shielded them from the sight of 
 their persecutors. As to the 
 small spring that runs at the 
 bottom of the well that you see there, 
 tradition has it that the Virgin there 
 washed the swaddling clothes of the 
 
 Saviour ; it is added that everywhere where a drop of water fell 
 from the linen a balsam tree grew." 
 
 " That's an origin for the balsam tree that sounds somewhat like 
 a fable. Monsieur K^radec." 
 
 " If the legend does not please you, you can take history, which 
 teaches you that Cleopatra brought the balsam tree from Judea." 
 
 10 
 
 Obelisk of Usertesen.
 
 146 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 "Where she, no doubt, went to iplay some of her pranks," 
 interrupted On^sime. 
 
 " Something of the kind," replied Alan, laughing ; " she had gone 
 to try the power of her charms on Herod." 
 
 " The provoking strumpet ! " 
 
 " I see she pleases you no more than this obelisk, this menhir of a 
 geometric form, as you term it." 
 
 " I much prefer the latter; it at least keeps itself straight, although 
 it doesn't say much." 
 
 " If the obelisk of Usertesen could speak, Monsieur Coquillard, it 
 .would say that they are, by the legend of the Virgin Mary, super- 
 seding Osiris, who, at first, hid in the trunk of a tree, and that the 
 element that watered the ground beside it had made balsam trees 
 grow thousands of years before Christ \ that, long before, Osiris had 
 sent his son Horus on earth to save mankind by spilling his blood, as 
 Jesus had redeemed the world on the cross ; that people took com- 
 munion from him, that divine Lord, before taking communion from 
 the Son of God. It would relate also the sanguinary battle fought 
 on the plain of Heliopolis, when on March 19th, 1800, in an heroic 
 struggle, 8,000 Frenchmen, commanded by Kleber, dispersed 80,000 
 Turks urged on against us by England, after the Convention of 
 El Arish, and it would express astonishment that the souvenir of this 
 glorious passage of arms had not effaced, even to the last vestiges, the 
 pale Christian legend that has taken shelter in the shade of the old 
 tree, wasted and worn out with age." 
 
 " And it would not be wrong," said Jacques ; " legends are the 
 splutterings of humanity in the cradle, and history is the manly 
 language of adult nations : to return to legends is to fall back into 
 infancy, and the world is not old enough yet for that 1 " 
 
 " So," said Kdradec, " let us leave this legend, more or less apocry- 
 phal, in its swaddling clothes, and talk a little about Heliopolis, or AN^ 
 as the Egyptians called it, the OiV of the Hebrews, the city consecrated 
 to Toum-Harmakhis (the rising sun, the setting sun), the City of the 
 Sun, with its grand temples approached by interminable avenues of 
 sphinxes, with innumerable obelisks before them.
 
 BETROSPECTIVE GLANCE AT HELIOPOLIS. 147 
 
 " It was here that the benuoii, the plicenix with the gold and crimson 
 phimage, unique and without a mate, came from Arabia every five 
 hundred years to expire and be re-born of its own ashes on the altar of 
 the Sun ; here that the lion with the luminous coat, with the golden 
 claws, wearing round his neck triple collars of precious stones, in his 
 ears pendants of gold enriched with emeralds from Ethiopia, and the 
 ox Mn^vis, with the black and bristling hair, whose horns were 
 gilded and the points ornamented with turquoises from Sinai, his 
 body partly covered with plates of delicately chiselled gold sewn with 
 chalcedony from Thebes, delivered their oracles, — revered animals that 
 were fed by special officers of an elevated rank, whose post was 
 hereditary, honoured and envied ; having their bathers, perfumers, 
 hairdressers, valets, to attend to their toilet, to satisfy the caprices of 
 their coquetry; their painters to reproduce their pictures ; their sculptors 
 to chisel their sacred features ; their scribes to relate their deeds and 
 gestures ; their harems and their eunuchs entrusted with the duty of 
 providing for their august amours ; their singers, their musicians, to 
 charm their leisure ; their thurifers to burn incense around them? 
 their priests to sing hymns in their honour; and a whole people to 
 kneel down before them and spread out carpets on their way, respect- 
 ing them to such a point that, in times of famine, men ate each other 
 rather than touch the food of their adored animals, who wanted for 
 nothing ; that their death was a signal for public mourning ; that, in 
 equality with the Kings, they were embalmed with prodigious luxury 
 and placed in splendid sepulchres ; and that, like the gods, they shared 
 divine honours." 
 
 " Good gracious ! but those people were mad," said On^sime, 
 "mad as hatters ! Egypt was the Bedlam of Africa; its inhabitants 
 had all a tile loose. The monsters ! Eat each other in the presence 
 of an enormous beefsteak on hoofs, of indecent corpulency ! But it was 
 pyramidal ! It was pure anthropopliagy, without attenuating circum- 
 stances too ! The wretches had lost their brains." 
 
 " Not at all, my dear Monsieur Onesime ; the Egyptians only lost 
 their brains after their death, when the embalmers, with an oblique 
 iron, drew them out of their nostrils."
 
 148 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " It must have been a regular sinecure then, and their obh'que iron 
 must often have searched in emptiness." 
 
 " The Greeks thought quite differently of the Egyptians, Monsieur 
 Coquillard ; Eudoxus and Plato came to study astronomy at this very 
 place, at Heliopolis." 
 
 " Another nation of cracked people, your Greeks ! " 
 
 " The Greeks ! " exclaimed Jacques ; "they are the heroic, intelligent, 
 artistic, learned nation par excellence ! " 
 
 " Speak in the past tense, if you please." 
 
 " That nation was " 
 
 " Yes, was— /^«Y " 
 
 " The Prometheus of humanity." 
 
 " Its weakness is now the object of the pity of Europe." 
 
 "After having been by its genius the cause of its greatness. 
 Respect must be shown for such ancients, and not pity ; the ungrate- 
 ful sons of the Germans, the Dacians, Britons, Sarmatians, and Latins, 
 forgetful of the services rendered in antiquity, must not come and bite 
 the breast of the sublime wet-nurse, where their ancestors sucked the 
 sacred milk which, from barbarians that they were, made them men ; 
 all must, like the grateful children of the Gauls, pay their debt to old 
 Hellas by guiding the tottering steps of her descendants ; their weak- 
 ness must be protected, and not threatened." 
 
 " To enlighten the groping efforts of Greece, clearing her road in the 
 present, guiding her aspirations towards the future," said Kdradec, "is 
 to bring another element to the great work of civilisation, and one of 
 the most fruitful ! Greece, as well gifted now as formerly, brave, 
 learned, philosophic, artistic, awakening from her long slumber, seeks 
 to join the past to the present and to continue the glorious tradition of 
 times that have disappeared." 
 
 " It is only Hercules who could have brought this work to a good 
 end, and he will not spring up again from his ashes, like the bennou," 
 said Onesime. 
 
 " That's true ; but he has left descendants who -" 
 
 " Delight idlers at the fairs ; an agglomeration of muscles that 
 .has extinguished the brain," interrupted Ondsime.
 
 CIVILISATION OF THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS. 149 
 
 "Who desire nothing better than to follow in his footsteps," 
 continned the Doctor ; " and it is here, among these madmen, as you 
 call them, that the philosophers of Greece, then in full bloom, came 
 to ask the priests of Egypt on the decline for the elements of that 
 wisdom which had been bequeathed to them by the servants of 
 Horus." 
 
 " Or rather to ascertain the degree of folly they had reached." 
 
 " Perhaps ! Nevertheless they adajjted those principles to their 
 versatile genius ; their brilliant imagination transformed them ; their 
 light-hearted scepticism stripped them of the mystic formulas that 
 enveloped them ; their common sense, so precise, threw light on the 
 obscurities, lopped off the excrescences ; their fascinating elegance, 
 their harmonious language, propagated ideas, casting to the four 
 corners of the globe that triple germ of human thought, science, and 
 art, the development of which was to give expression to our modern 
 civilisation." 
 
 " I consider it very amusing all the same on the part of that good 
 old Attica, coming to ask Egypt how to behave decently in life. 
 Ogres conducting a philosophy class ! Mummy-manufacturers, who 
 put the bodies of their relatives ' up the spout,' undertakers teaching 
 the science of life ! Imbecile scribes, forerunners of Aristophanes ! 
 Interminable litanies of an idiotic ritual, preparing the work of 
 iEschylus ! Egyptian fables, inspiring Homer ! Hierogrammatists 
 with their hieroglyphics, dry daubers of profiles, stiff stone-scrapers, 
 clumsy sculptors of baboons on a large scale, constructors of chambers 
 in the pyramids, forerunners of an Apelles, of a Phidias, of the sub- 
 lime architect of the Parthenon I These surveyors of nomes assisting 
 Diophantes to work out his theorems, giving lessons to Euclid ! 
 These ungainly adorers of animals teaching esthetics to that noble, 
 beautiful, elegant race, which had the sentiment of art innate in its 
 mind, or in the blood, whose brain produced the myth of Prometheus, 
 casting immortal masterpieces about in profusion I You might as 
 well say at once that this obelisk is the primal type of the Pallas 
 Athene of Phidias, or the Faun of Praxiteles." 
 
 " Yes, indeed, Monsieur Coquillard."
 
 150 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 "You decidedly know too much, you gentlemen of learning; you 
 are able, like the Almighty, to make something out of nothing ; more 
 powerful than Moses, who by the blow of a stick caused water to spurt 
 from a rock, you make wisdom flow from folly. Continue, my dear 
 scholar; explain us all these mysteries, divulge to us all the secrets 
 that the monuments of your old friend ^gyptos have murmured in 
 your ear ; tell us what the Colossi of Memnon related to you at 
 sunrise, what the granite Sphinxes of Karnac confided to you ! Trans- 
 late to us the most intimate confessions of this solitary obelisk and of 
 this old sycamore, relics of a religion that has disappeared and of 
 another that is agonising ; and if there remains somewhere, in some 
 naos buried beneath the sand, at the bottom of the serdab of some 
 mastaba forgotten by Mariette, in the entrails of some pyramid 
 neglected by Masp^ro, in the labyrinth of some speos lost in the 
 Arabian mountain, a bit of this famous wisdom of Egypt, well ! ask 
 this solitary mile-stone, this wasps' nest, to show you the way and to 
 find you the place where this gem rests, this rara avis, and make a 
 present of it to the fellaheen of to-day, who have great need of it ! " 
 
 " They are not the only ones," retaliated Jacques. 
 
 " You want your share ? " 
 
 " Yes ; to divide it with you." 
 
 " But if I told you. Monsieur Coquillard, that at the period when 
 our ancestors, in mere barbarism, lived in caverns, struggling with 
 arms of flint against bears and wild bulls, the Egyptians had their 
 astrologers, their mathematicians, their architects ; that they practised 
 all the arts, exercised almost all the trades known in our own times ; 
 and that Egypt had already arrived at a high degree of civilisation 
 before Babylon and Nineveh were founded ? " 
 
 " I would believe you, because you would afiirm it to be true." 
 
 " And if I added that it was an Egyptian who invented gun- 
 powder ? " 
 
 '' An Egyptian ! " 
 
 " Yes, an Egyptian, born here, at Heliopolis ! " 
 
 " Then I would ask whether you were speaking seriously." 
 
 " And I would reply that I am speaking very seriously; that this
 
 GBEATNESS AND DECLINE OF THE EGYPTIANS 151 
 
 Egyptian, crossed with a Greek, was called Callinices, that he lived in 
 the seventh century of onr era, that he discovered the composition of 
 Greek fire, which is little different from gimpowder, the use of which 
 was even known to the Egyptian priests." 
 
 " And the celebrated German monk ? And Roger Bacon ? " 
 " They would have invented nothing at all." 
 
 "But the Chinese, did not they have something to do with the 
 invention of powder as well ? " 
 
 " It was known to them from time immemorial, and as commercial 
 intercourse existed between the east and west of Asia, perhaps their 
 secret was transmitted to Africa and thence to Europe bv Callinices 
 who took advantage of this discovery ; but these are quite o-ratuitous 
 suppositions. What is beyond doabt is that the Egyjitiau priests 
 made use of powder, or of something similar, in the performance of 
 their mysteries, or in their initiations, to impose on the people and 
 frighten the neophytes ; that Callinices found Greek fire, or gunpowder, 
 and took his discovery to Constantinople." 
 
 "Well, I should never have thought them capable of such a 
 thing." 
 
 " But," broke in Jacques, " how do you explain, Monsieur Alan, 
 such an absolute breakdown of this people so profoundly original, 
 so singularly tenacious, so attached to their old customs, to their 
 institutions, to their Pharaohs, so opposed to all importation from the 
 outside ? How has such a complete metamorphosis been performed, 
 which transformed the hardy soldiers of Thotmes into the timid 
 fellaheen of the present day ? " 
 
 " By that fatal law of nature which provides that all here below 
 are born, multiply, and die." 
 
 " And begin again," remarked Onesime, " as the Greeks are 
 budding again ; at least, so you affirm." 
 
 " And begin again," acquiesced Keradec ; " that happens 
 sometimes." 
 
 " With patronage ; your spoilt child has doubtless attained a 
 dispensation. I see arrangements can be made with science as with 
 the Church : I was not aware that the noble daughter of Mnemosyne
 
 152 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 and Jupiter, the impartial Clio, sometimes lost herself in the un- 
 dulating paths of the sweet disciples of Loyola." 
 
 " But you see exceptions at every instant, in everything ! " 
 
 " To confirm the rule, is it not so ? And Greece is one." 
 
 " Yes, like all beings who, before dying out, left the germs of a 
 new life." 
 
 " Ah ! Doctor, give me, I beg of you, the secret of procuring a 
 new life." 
 
 " Marry and have children," answered Alan, laughing. 
 
 Onesime made a grimace. 
 
 " Thank you, Doctor ; I do not feel myself sufficiently near my end 
 to wish to continue. I'll wait." 
 
 " To revert to your question, Monsieur Jacques, travel back to the 
 period when the Macedonian founded Alexandria, grafting a vivacious 
 shoot on to the old stalk of Egypt slumbering over its mummies, 
 exhausted by successive invasions. Under the powerful impulsion of 
 Lagos, the Greek city became the centre of intelligence, science, and 
 art at the same time as the commercial rendezvous of the world. The 
 Ptolemies sought in vain to blend, in a fusion contrary to the tradi- 
 tional genius of Egypt, the sombre and angry character of the Egyptian 
 with the gay and mocking nature of the Greek, and to implant in the 
 decayed civilisation of the Pharaohs that younger and more pleasant 
 civilisation of Greece ; it merely grazed the surface of the old national 
 mind, and, powerless to penetrate beyond, only weakened the ancient 
 doctrines, which were altered and partly lost, as well as the sacred 
 language of hieroglyphics, which disappeared for ever, some centuries 
 later, stifled by Christianity. 
 
 " And when Amrou, at the head of a Mussulman army, invaded 
 the valley of the Nile, Egypt was nothing but a corpse, which neither 
 the genius of Lagides nor the astounding vitality of the Greek people 
 — light of heart, turbulent, thoughtful, learned, artistic, of untiring 
 ndustrial ability, of unrivalled commercial activity — had been able 
 to galvanise ; and while Egypt, inert, submitted almost uncon- 
 sciously to the Arab invasion, accepting mechanically their customs 
 with their religion, the Greeks, after a long and heroic effort, the last
 
 GREATNESS AND DECLINE OF THE EGYPTIANS. 153 
 
 spasm of tlieir dying energy, abandoned by the orthodox Byzantium, 
 succnmbed, exhausted and glorious. 
 
 "They bequeathed to their conquerors the brilliant remnants of 
 the Hellenic civilisation from which is born that of the West. 
 
 " The Arabs, adapting to their genius, so original in its graceful 
 fancy, this pure sentiment of the beautiful, this profound science of the 
 Greeks, in their turn, guided by the victorious Crescent, carried the 
 civilisation of the conquered as far as Spain. But the fatal principle 
 of Islamism, which prevented them accepting it in its entirety, con- 
 tained the germ of death, which would, in the end, stay the powerful 
 flow of this astounding culture, and annihilate the Colossus which 
 Europe is even now dividing in his lifetime. 
 
 " At the present day Islamism is breaking up ; the mosques are 
 crumbling to ruins before the eyes of the indifferent Arabs, who 
 possess neither the courage nor the necessary science to repair them 
 or to build new ones ; the Crescent, like the Cross, like the key of the 
 life of Osiris, is on its way to join, amidst indifference and oblivion, 
 all the worn-out rattles of our fathers, all those old accessories of 
 annihilated religions. 
 
 " The fellah alone is left in the midst of his tombs, of his temples, 
 of his mummies, unchangeable like the Nile, slowly absorbing his 
 conquerors, consoling himself in his ardent affection for his beloved 
 river, the Osiris of his ancestors, patiently waiting, bent over the dark 
 soil, for the soul of Egypt, gone to the unknown regions of Amenti, ta 
 return and animate afresh its poor body." 
 
 " But where are the ruins of this city of Heliopolis ? It is not 
 possible to conjure away the remains of such a town like a nutmeg." 
 
 " One must seek for them at Cairo, in the foundations of the 
 houses, of the mosques, of the ramparts. The Arabs built the new 
 Egyptian capital with the ruins of Heliopolis and Memphis, reduced, 
 alas ! to the state of quarries in full activity. Vce victis ! The (quotation 
 is applicable to stones as well as nations." 
 
 While chatting thus together, the Doctor, Jacques, and Onesime 
 had wandered about a good deal, and seen almost everything. Jacques 
 had made a few sketches, Keradec had deciphered a few hieroglyphics,
 
 154 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 and On^sime had conscientiously got over his digestion. They returned 
 to the camp, jumped on their asses, and set out in the direction of the 
 petrified forest. 
 
 In a short time they reached some sandy ground between Gebel-el- 
 Ahmar and Gebel-Mokattam, in a desolate, arid spot. The donkeys 
 advanced at a walk, the horsemen did not breathe a word ; the donkey 
 boys also followed in silence, wiping away, from time to time, a few 
 drops of perspiration with the back of their hands. An oppressive 
 heat weighed on the little caravan. It laboriously ascended the 
 slope of Gebel-el-Ahmar, and at last came to an expanse of table- 
 land, covered with the remains of trunks of trees, some of a remarkable 
 size, which were petrified, or rather transformed into a siliceous 
 substance. 
 
 " These petrifications," said Keradec, " which are also found at 
 Oebel-Silsileh, in the great Libyan desert, in the Bayouda desert, in 
 Abyssinia, and at Kilima N'jaro, seem to form part of an immense 
 siliceous system, covering all Eastern Africa and disappearing under 
 the sand, some parts only emerging, in places, on the surface of the 
 soil. Different hypotheses have been advanced as to their origin." 
 
 " Ah ! the hypotheses," said Onesime ; " there they are coming to 
 the rescue, those good-natured hypotheses, those perfidious charmers, 
 those docile children of your restless imaginations, those vaporous 
 forerunners of the realisation of your wishes, timid enlighteners of 
 science, slight scafibldings with which you prop up the extravagant 
 speculations of your minds, so ardently captivated by truth, whose 
 gigantic leap towards the unknown only equals the vertiginous depth 
 of the fall, light bubbles escaped from the meanders of your seething 
 brains, bursting, poor fools I in the stern contact with cold reality." 
 
 " Certainly, Monsieur Ondsime, for it is in the crucible of a severe 
 analysis that our reasoning is refined ; logic is the touch-stone of 
 our speculations, and we do not permit ourselves to be deceived by 
 the delirium of our imprudent imagination." 
 
 " Your imagination I It surpasses even your knowledge, gentle- 
 men of science ; you jump on to the hypothesis as lightly as a poet 
 leaps on Pegasus, and when, by chance, brutal truth seizes your
 
 WHAT ONESIME THINKS OF HYPOTHESES. 157 
 
 complaisant mount by the bridle and flings him down, it is almost 
 with painfnl regret for an illnsion that is lost, that, letting go the 
 saddle, yon qnit yonr broken-down screw, to enter on the bitter and 
 luminous path of reality." 
 
 " But, Monsieur Coquillard, it is by hypotheses that we arrive at 
 truth." 
 
 " You might almost say at once that by lying we get to say what 
 is true." 
 
 " The hypothesis, my dear Onesime," said Jacques—" pardon me, 
 Doctor, the audacity of my hypothesis — is the dung on which grows 
 the venerable mushroom of science." 
 
 " Good and evil, then," interrupted Onesime ; " for beside the 
 wholesome mushroom often grows the venomous fungus ; and these 
 two brotherly enemies are so much alike, that one must have a very 
 sure eye to distinguish one from the other, and with these gentlemen, 
 pioneers of science — your fellow-brethren. Monsieur Keradec — if the 
 mind is always powerful, the sight is sometimes weak, and the 
 possibility exists that, through the glasses of their spectacles, they 
 might mistake the two, and be guilty of errors, very excusable, no 
 doubt, but much to be regretted." 
 
 " Don't worry yourself," said Jacques, " Monsieur Keradec knows 
 his business; you may have confidence in his long and learned 
 experience." 
 
 " I have always appreciated to the full extent the great learning 
 and clever good sense of M. Alan," answered Onesime, who turned 
 smiling towards the Doctor ; " he has my entire confidence." 
 
 " Thanks for your good opinion of me, my dear Monsieur Onesime ; 
 I will endeavour to preserve it by not making too frequent use of 
 hypotheses, and you will do me a service by refuting them as I 
 establish them ; they will thus be so many false scents exposed, and 
 it will be so much to the credit of truth." 
 
 " Do not rely on me for that ; I am too much of a conservator to 
 wish to bring accepted theories to destruction, however hypothetical 
 they may be." 
 
 " And then," said Jacques, " there are some that have existed so
 
 158 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 long wrapped up in such universal veneration that you would fear to 
 do the least thing to them. Attempt, for example, to touch that 
 respectable hypothesis of the existence of God ; try to tear away that 
 cloak of Nessus which man has taken and placed on his shoulders, 
 and which he can't get rid of ; it is the oldest and most tenacious ; 
 its age is the age of humanity ; it was born with the first man and will 
 die with the last. It is true that some strong minds consider this hypo- 
 thesis both useless and dangerous, like an insolvable equation which, 
 during centuries, has tormented humanity, stupidly bent upon discerning 
 the unknowable ; but the masses cling to it as to the last straw." 
 
 " Deicide ! You only required that," interrupted On^sime. 
 
 " Let us leave these fools, maybe these wise men, their antiquated 
 hobby ! The modern idea is to dissect the earth, as formerly they 
 scrutinised the sky. Tired of seeking God everywhere and finding 
 him nowhere, of obstinately endeavouring to clasp what is not to be 
 caught ; worn out, they respect a mystery they were unable to 
 penetrate ; some through want of power or fatigue, others out of 
 politeness or fear, have ceased to worry with their indiscreet curiosity 
 the supreme manager, the great potentate of space, obstinately pre- 
 serving his incognito and hiding his secret and his abode. 
 
 " In the face of this formidable unknown mystery, for ever escaping 
 from the anxious investigation of thousands of human beings, since 
 thousands of centuries, man, having no more strength, discouraged, 
 has sunk down exhausted, bruised all over. 
 
 " At the present day he has recourse to heroic measures to cure 
 himself; pitilessly rejecting all vague aspirations towards imaginary 
 worlds, better and eternal, he casts his eyes on that in which he was 
 born, his real dwelling, his home, endeavouring by his ingenuity, his 
 labour, and his wisdom to make the house pleasant and life agreeable, 
 or, at least, possible, by doing his maximum in a minimum lapse of 
 time. Instead of consulting the future, people study the present ; 
 the alchemist has made way for the chemist ; the secrets of nature 
 are wrested from her ; it is easier, and there is less, probability of 
 working in the dark. And I will now simply lay before you the 
 hypotheses that have been presented on this corpse of a forest.
 
 THE PETEIFIED FOEEST. 
 
 161 
 
 " Some admit the silicification on this spot of a pre-existiug forest, 
 produced by the eruption of thermo-siliceous springs, analogous to the 
 geysers of Iceland. Another hj^othesis, rejecting the idea of a pre- 
 existing forest on the Mokattam, supposes that these blocks, already 
 silicified, starting from Nubia, were brought down by the Nile, or 
 by powerful marine currents, or again (following the theory of the 
 erratic blocks of Switzerland), by the influence of great glaciers, and 
 were quietly stranded on the heights of the Mokattam. 
 
 "^ 
 
 The desert. 
 
 " The first hypothesis seems the most rational, the second en- 
 countering almost insurmountable difficulties. What do you think, 
 Monsieur Coquillard ? " 
 
 " I think, as we're playing truants in the fields of hypothesis, that 
 we might just as likely suppose, simply, that this dead forest was 
 mummified by some Pharaoh or other, who was a great admirer of 
 trees ; in a country where people mummified everything— gazelles, 
 ibis, hams, wigs — it is not illogical to suppose that they mummified 
 a few trunks of trees." 
 
 " Your hypothesis is not wanting in originality, Monsieur Onesime, 
 
 11
 
 162 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 or iu logic, particularly. You have the stuff of a learned man in 
 you." 
 
 '• Hypothetical," remarked Jacques. 
 
 " You're jealous," answered Ouesime. 
 
 From the spot where they were, the view extended far beyond the 
 motionless waves of the desert sand, undulating at the east and losing 
 themselves in the distant violet of the twilight ; a few white bones 
 here and there broke up the yellowish monotony of that silent 
 immensity, calcinated by the sun for many centuries. 
 
 The three friends tore themselves away from the contemplation 
 of this scene of desolation. Night was approaching ; it was time to 
 leave. They turned along the road to Cairo ; they were soon at the 
 bottom of the Mokattam, passed between the tombs of the Mamelukes 
 Kait-Bey and El Gowry, and as night closed in reached the gate 
 of Bab-el-Nasr ; it was quite dark when they quitted their steeds at 
 the door of their hotel.
 
 The Pyramids. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 On the road to Ghizeh. — The Pyramids in the distance.— Escorted by the Arabs. — 
 At the foot of the Pyramids. — Carried off by the Bedouins. — Jacques and 
 Onesime ascend Khout-the-Brilliant. — On the top of the Pyramid. — The 
 descent. — Onesime's annoyances. — He meets old acquaintances of the Said.— 
 Intra muros. — Ke'radec's opinion of the monuments of the Pharaohs. — 
 Onesime's horror of the latter. — Hypotheses as to the use and object of the 
 Pyramids. — "What history and legend say of them. — Onesime's theories of these 
 regular stone-faced tumuli and their authoi's. — History of Youssouf 's hand. — 
 Digression on the descendants of the Crusaders. — Her-the- Superior. — Cook 
 and Son's packages. — Ur't-the-Great. — The watchman of the desert. — In the 
 shadow of the Sphinx. — Truffles and Clos-Vougeot. — To the health of Osiris ! 
 — The Temple of the Sphinx. — Through the Mastabas. — At the hotel. 
 
 ~rT is seven o'clock ; a fine morning, sharp air ; the Doctor rolls a 
 -*- cigarette, Jacques lights his first pipe ; Onesime, still half asleep, 
 pulls out a cigar, and settles himself down on the cushions of the 
 carriage that they have engaged in the Esbekieh. The coachman 
 takes them along at a pretty smart pace : they pass beside the 
 Kasr-el-Nil barracks, across the bridge of the same name, and, leaving 
 the Palace of Ghezireh on the right, drive through a tumble-down 
 village ; then the road becomes open and takes a straight line to the 
 Pyramids. 
 
 The highway, shaded on either side by a double row of limes, is 
 dreadfully direct j the atmosphere admirably pure and exquisitely 
 
 163
 
 164 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 fresh and perfumed ; slight vapours glide over the damp ground, rise, 
 mount, disperse, and disappear in white flakes in the dull blue of the 
 sky. In the distance, the Pyramids appear aerial, transparent, bathed 
 in a silvery mist ; little by little they are freed of these last veils, the 
 gauze is torn away, and, suddenly,- quite naked, superb, inundated with 
 light, they burst out radiant with their hues of reddish gold, their 
 gigantic profiles standing out boldly against the sky. 
 
 The bridge of Kasr-el-Kil. 
 
 On both sides of the road the country undulates resplendent : the 
 black earth of Egypt palpitates under the fiery kiss of Horus ; it 
 awakes and smilingly presents its wide flanks to the robust fellaheen, 
 its children, black as itself. Naked to the waist, they indolently 
 lean with their hands on the arms of primitive ploughs, which barely 
 skim the surface of a marvellously fertile soil ; they are drawn by
 
 AT THE FOOT OF THE PYRAMIDS. 
 
 165 
 
 small, lean bullocks with short necks. Buffaloes graze ; fishermen 
 laboriously drag long nets in the canal which borders the road ; flights 
 of herons make away ; pelicans shake their feathers, erect on their 
 long stilts. Villages appear like nests amidst the verdure. 
 
 The Pyramids grow big ; the eye can hardly distinguish the 
 mutilations they have sufiered in the course of centuries. The blue 
 of the sky becomes more intense, the light more brilliant, the sun 
 hotter. The road rises little by little ; the horses have slackened their 
 pace. A swarm of Arabs, of Bedouins in black and white burnouses, 
 appear on all sides, surround the carriage, follow it running : leaning 
 one hand on the edge of the door or the hood, they, with the other, draw 
 
 
 Labourer of the Delta. 
 
 from the folds of their burnouses old coins, cats and figures of Osiris 
 in bronze, stone beetles, earthenware chaplets, remains of mummies, 
 shreds of papyrus, and the song of baksheesh commences, monotonous, 
 irritating, imperious ; the voices are harsh, guttural ; the faces hard, 
 the limbs muscular. The wild children of the desert have become 
 simple ciceroni ; very talkative and disagreeable beggars ; but not in 
 the least dangerous, notwithstanding their terrible air and bass voices. 
 All at once, at a turn in the road at a right angle, the driver wakes 
 up his horses, ascends a steep incline at a gallop, reaches the high 
 ground, and suddenly the mass of audacia saxa rises before the 
 stupefied travellers I The sensation produced by the sudden sight 
 of this mastodon of architecture barring the horizon, invading the
 
 165 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 sky, covering space, cannot he clefiued. The idea tliat tliis colossus, 
 of wliich "the indestructible mass has fatigued time," is a work 
 imagined by the brain, executed by the hand of man, astonishes the 
 understanding and disconcerts the imagination. 
 
 Jacques experienced a sort of giddiness ; he felt as if attracted by 
 an abyss. On^sime gazed with a contemptuous pout ; this gigantic 
 effort of man left him quite calm. The Doctor, to whom the 
 Pyramids were old acquaintances, was bargaining for a black granite 
 beetle, engraved with the cartouch of Thotmes III., with a Bedouin, 
 who was asking him an extravagant price for it. 
 
 On their arrival another swarm of Bedouins, joining those who had 
 escorted them, had surrounded them and almost dragged them from 
 the carriage. These Bedouins, ciceroni in burnouses, under the orders 
 of a Sheikh, form part of a tribe of prey who, from father to son, pos- 
 sess the monopoly of showing foreigners over the Pyramids, a privilege 
 which they strangely abuse ! These demons pester them with tedious 
 perseverance ; the one who has a discussion with Ke'radec insists on 
 selling him his beetle, and disputes possession of him, unguibus et rostro, 
 with his fellows. Jacques and On^sime are less fortunate ; deafened by 
 the cries, blinded by the gesticulations, pulled about by the long hands 
 of the rapacious band, they submit to being led off without resistance 
 beneath a shower of demands for baksheesh set forth imperatively. 
 
 " Hold your tongues, brigands," shouted Onesime ; " you will 
 awaken Bonaparte's forty centuries that slumber there, aloft ! " 
 
 On the way they meet other Europeans, like them prisoners of 
 these barbarians, and enduring the same constraint ; this sight con- 
 soles them. Orange-sellers follow behind, and, passing their skinny 
 arms over the heads of the jailers, offer their commodities in a shrill 
 voice ; a troop of donkey boys, resting in the midst of their animals 
 in the large triangle of shade thrown by the north side of the pyramid, 
 watch them pass by and laugh. 
 
 At the foot of the monument two of the Arabs leap upon the first 
 step; each of them takes one of Onesime's arms and pulls him upward, 
 while a third pushes him up from behind, and the comic but laborious 
 ascent commences.
 
 ASCENT OF THE PYRAMID. 
 
 167 
 
 Jacques, at the sight of the fate that awaits him, escapes from his 
 guardians, springs on the blocks, and, thanks to his strength and 
 the flexibility of his ,ji.^ 
 
 muscles, climbs them J^lvv? 
 
 tolerably briskly. The --'i^'^^- 
 men with the black 
 burnouses pursue and 
 capture him. He en- 
 deavours to make them 
 understand that he can 
 and will go up alone. 
 All in vain ! The three 
 guides surround him, 
 gesticulate and halloa • 
 like maniacs. " Bak- 
 sheesh ! baksheesh ! 
 ketir ! " is the only 
 answer to his protesta- 
 tions ; the discussion 
 threatens to be everlast- 
 ing, reasoning is useless ; it is 
 repugnant to him to use force, 
 he has recourse to artifice ; 
 taking a handful of piastres, he 
 throws them to the foot of the steps : 
 in the twinkling of an eye he is clear 
 of his persecutors, who dash off with 
 emulation in search of the small 
 money, pushing and swearing at each 
 other, while he continues to climb by 
 the strength of his limbs. 
 
 Half-way up he finds Onesime, out of breath, bruised, furious, his 
 knees scraped, staring piteously at a large rent in his trousers, while 
 cracking sounds of evil omen, which accompany each of his move- 
 ments, announce other serious damages. He absolutely refuses to 
 
 Ascent of the pyramid.
 
 168 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 contiune. Jacques comforts him as well as he is able ; he at length 
 becomes calm, and with returning breath recovers courage ; he com- 
 pletes the ascent without any further accident, and after some trouble 
 reaches the platform. 
 
 The sight is grand in the extreme ; but, suffocated by the heat, 
 dazzled by the sun, Onesime immediately beats a retreat, leaving 
 Jacques to admire it at his ease. Assisted by his Bedouins, he 
 descends a few steps on the north side of the pyramid, and there, in 
 a retreat formed by a stone torn from its socket, in the shade, seated 
 on the burnous folded in four of one of his guides, fanned by the two 
 others, he rests from his fatigue, indolently allowing his roving gaze to 
 fall on the landscape that expands below him. From time to time, 
 the remembrance of his eventful ascent mixes a little bitterness with 
 this drowsy quietude, and he is seized with a nervous trembling at 
 the thought of the approaching descent. Apart from these slight 
 vexations of an imagination too readily impressed, he feels as well as 
 can be. 
 
 The eye hovers over an immense surface : to the east glitters the 
 Nile, winding through a vast breadth of verdure, resembling a mon- 
 strous reptile asleep in the sun ; sheets of water shine like mirrors ; 
 a few villages break up the dark green of the plain with touches of 
 grey. Beyond, in a sparkling agglomeration, shine the domes of the 
 mosques, the summits of the minarets, commanded by the citadel and 
 the two slender needles of the Mosque of Mahomet Ali, standing out 
 clearly against the reddish mass of Mokattam. To the south points 
 up the Pyramid of Chephren, Ur't-the-Great, still covered at the 
 upper part with its facing of granite, round which eagles are whirling; 
 that of Mycerinus, Her-the-Superior ; then quite a long chain of other 
 pyramids, of embryos of pyramids, of mastabas echeloned as far as 
 the eye can see on the border of the desert. To the north, cultivated 
 fields alternate indefinitely with strips of sand in the plain of the 
 Delta. To the west, the desert : a gloomy succession of red hillocks, 
 of desolate ravines, studded here and there with the violet heads of 
 rugged rocks of indeterminable forms. 
 
 Sometimes, in the grey, dull shade that weighs on this redoubtable
 
 THE DESCENT. 169 
 
 expanse, strange glimmers, powerful effects of light, wild and un- 
 expected, galvanise this spectral aridity for an instant by a sudden 
 and terrible flash of life. One feels oppressed by a sentiment of 
 inexpressible sadness in face of this accursed land, of this furnace 
 where blows a wind of death I 
 
 Jacques was all at once drawn from his contemplation by the 
 bantering voice of On^sime, who had just appeared on the platform, 
 his helmet on his head and his parasol in his hand. 
 
 " Pardon me disturbing you in your delicious tete-d-tete with Khout- 
 the-Brilliant, my dear friend, but we have now been roasting for a 
 good half-hour on the summit of this ridiculous tumulus with uniform 
 faces ; suppose we were to think of descending ? " 
 
 " Whenever you like." 
 
 " Very well, then, let us be off," sighed Onesime, whose jovial 
 face became all at once overcast. 
 
 " Is it regret at leaving that makes you sigh ? " 
 
 " Almost, when I think of the ground I still have to get over." 
 
 " Such a i^icturesque road, so easy ! where you descend all the 
 time, without the least hill to climb." 
 
 " Only your ribs to break, hey ! You consider that picturesque, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Ah I You see, in clumsy hands," Jacques observed gravely, " you 
 run the risk of starting from here wholesale, and of being retailed 
 at the bottom. That has happened, and " 
 
 " Will you hold your tongue, tormentor ? " exclaimed Onesime, 
 half laughing, half trembling. "You make my skin creep with your 
 stories, and to do so you choose the very moment when I am clinging 
 to my courage with both hands to undertake this abominable descent. 
 Ah, traitor ! " And Onesime, with ill-restrained emotion, places 
 himself once again in the hands of his Arabs. 
 
 Upheld, withheld, tossed about by them, he descends, or rather 
 allows himself to descend ; but not without lively apprehensions for 
 the security of his person, and as to the resisting strength of the 
 seams of his clothing. Jacques, freed from his acolytes, bounds 
 lightly from step to step.
 
 170 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Half-way down they cross some tourists anxious to go and engrave 
 their names at the summit of the monument of Cheops, and thus 
 prove the truth of the proverb, Nomina stultorum semper parietibus 
 insunt — idiots spending hours sinking the proofs of their stupidity 
 into the stone. They exchange a greeting as they pass. 
 
 A prudish old English woman, rather roughly handled by her 
 gingerbread-coloured lifters, gives utterance to the suppressed, sharp 
 clucking of a hen, and exhibits, by reason of her efforts to try and 
 hide them, deplorable defects in the contour which nature usually pro- 
 vides for mankind of the female sex. Onesime fancies he recognises 
 one of his old acquaintance of the Said. A little lower down a 
 precipitated halt attracts his attention : there is no longer room for 
 doubt this time ; it is the six packages of Cook and Son, guide-books 
 in the hands, note-books in the pockets, leather bag for souvenirs 
 slung across the shoulders, who are being hoisted up. " A pleasant 
 journey!" shouts Onesime. "Thank you; the same to you I " roar 
 the six throats at the same time ; and the sextuple ascension 
 continues. 
 
 Other parties follow. Then it is Jonathan, always phlegmatic, 
 accompanied by his telescope, which one of the Arabs carries ; as he 
 passes he presses the hand of Onesime as if he wanted to pulverise 
 the fingers and disarticulate the shoulder. " Brute ! lout ! " thinks 
 the latter, while delineating a doleful smile in answer to this Yankee 
 politeness, and he withdraws his aching hand from the vice with a 
 stifled moan, bows, and descends. "It's abominable to cripj)le people 
 like that under j)retence of greeting them ! " he growls between his 
 teeth, while separating his fingers, condensed under the high pressure 
 of American handshaking, and, avoiding any new recognition, he allows 
 himself to be manipulated by his bearers, who finally deposit him 
 at the foot of Khout-the-Brilliant, where Jacques, who has arrived 
 a few minutes before, is awaiting him with K^radec, who has ended 
 by purchasing the Thotmes beetle. 
 
 " Well, Monsieur Coquillard, here you are back again sound and 
 well from your adventurous expedition ! " said the Doctor gaily. 
 
 " Almost, Monsieur Kdradec, with the exception of a great scratch
 
 ONESIME S ANNOYANCES. 
 
 171 
 
 on the knee, a hand dislocated by an Iroquois calling himself civilised, 
 bruised all over, my trousers with as many holes in them as in a 
 strainer, my coat gone in all the seams, my hat all dented in, one 
 of the glasses of my spectacles lost, two of the ribs of my parasol 
 broken, the tattered appearance of a plasterer on the spree, and the 
 positive symptoms of extreme soreness all over my body. With 
 the exception of that," answered Ondsime with bitterness, " I am 
 not very much deteriorated." 
 
 
 At the foot of Khout-the-Brilliant. 
 
 " There are no roses without thorns, Monsieur Coquillard ; you 
 know the proverb." 
 
 " I have felt the thorns, but as to the roses, I am still in search of 
 them." 
 
 '' You will probably find them inside the pyramid we are about to 
 visit, for you will accompany us there." 
 
 " Faith ! While I am here I'll not stop on such a good road ; so 
 much the worse if I leave the remains of my trousers there ! "
 
 172 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX, 
 
 " What ! Onesime, you, a conservative by principle and hygiene, is 
 it with perfect equanimity of mind that you contemplate the eventua- 
 lity of returning from the interior of Khout sans culotte ! " 
 
 " Alas, my friend, I shall not he in the least surprised if this 
 internal visit is accompanied by some affliction of that sort after what 
 the external experiment i)rocured for me; but I will enter at any cost." 
 
 " If your corporation permits of it, though ; the passage is so 
 narrow." 
 
 " My corporation ! Look at that lean man who wants to make me 
 pass for a Silenus, because nature, in a moment of generosity, has 
 bestowed on my person a comely plumpness, symbol of a charming 
 character, and has graced me with this stomach so pleasingly round in 
 form, with such pure lines, discreetly comprised within sober limits I 
 whereas she has shown herself a parsimonious mother in regard to 
 him, forgetting to put a little of this coquettish fat on that angular 
 individual with sharp edges, that composition of muscles, nerves, and 
 sinews ! Confess that my well-bred obesity, so full of distinction, so 
 imposing, shames your proletarian scragginess, and that the serpent of 
 envy is gnawing your liver ! that you are jealous of my stomach ! " 
 
 " Xo, my friend ; I only admire it, and I do not envy it you. It 
 would be too heavy to carry ! " 
 
 " Lazy fellow ! " And Onesime catching hold of Jacques' arm, 
 they both accompanied the Doctor, who conducted them to the northern 
 side of the pyramid, where the entrance is, about five-and-twenty 
 yards from the lowest layer of stones. 
 
 Preceded by an Arab carrying a candle, followed by two or three 
 others, also provided with lights, they penetrate, bending down, into 
 the square gallery descending in a gentle incline. In proportion as 
 they go lower the air becomes heavier, its closeness affects them in the 
 throat ; numbers of bats fly round about in fright, graze their faces, 
 occasionally extinguishing their candles with a blow of their wings. 
 At the end of the gallery they turn round a block of granite which 
 bars the way, and remount by a low corridor ending at a horizontal 
 passage, where there is a bifurcation; they follow the horizontal 
 corridor, which leads them into the chamber called " The Queen's,"
 
 INTRA MUROS. 
 
 173 
 
 situated in the great vertical axis of the pyramid -, the ceiling is com- 
 posed of flags of stone most daringly fixed here. 
 
 Retracing their steps to'the point of intersection of the two passages, 
 they enter the grand 
 gallery, more lofty, 
 but not so large as 
 the others, which as- 
 cends on an incline 
 towards the centre of 
 the pyramid. The 
 pink granite sides are 
 more than twenty- 
 seven feet high ; one 
 breathes more freely. 
 The walls are smooth ; 
 a bench runs all along 
 them ; some niches 
 are hollowed out in 
 the stone. The ad- 
 hesion of the blocks 
 is so perfect that 
 one hardly perceives 
 the joints. At one 
 hundred and sixty 
 feet from there, they 
 arrive at a sort of 
 vestibule, tolerably 
 large, where vertical 
 grooves have been 
 made in the walls. 
 Four slabs of granite 
 
 formerly slid into Entrance of the Great Pyrainid. 
 
 them, and this quadruple door closed the entrance to the sepulchral 
 chamber, which they now reach. The entrance is low, they have to 
 bend down to pass, and they find themselves face to face with the 
 
 Y: 
 
 "^^^^r* 
 
 K^ 
 
 
 ': ^«> 
 
 4^-.
 
 174 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 sarcopliagns of red grauite, i)olislied, without ornaments or hiero- 
 glyphics, which contained the Eoyal Mummy. The ceiling is flat. 
 Above, five low chambers, husbanded by the architect, rise in stages 
 at brief intervals, the last holding the two blocks which form the 
 ceiling, leaning by their base on the mass of masonry, and joining 
 together at the top, where they form a rather wide angle, thus 
 diverting from the vault all the upper weight of the monument. 
 
 " And is that all ? " asked Onesime ; " and millions of men have 
 been employed piling up those blocks, and in making the road which 
 rendered it possible to bring them along solely to place a tomb there ! " 
 
 " Solely for that. Monsieur Coquillard." 
 
 " And you don't call that madness, furious, criminal, accursed 
 madness, on the part of this rascal of a Pharaoh ? " 
 
 " What can you expect. Monsieur Coquillard— alia tempora, alii 
 mores ! We have the cemetery of Pfere Lachaise, the Egyptians have 
 the necropolis of Ghizeh." 
 
 " The Egyptians did grand things, we do small ones," said Jacques ; 
 " that is the only difference." 
 
 " It was not during the Second Empire that things were done in a 
 small way ! Son of a gun, what a mania they had for working on 
 a large scale at the Tuileries ! " 
 
 " The only great thing of that unlucky period," said Jacques, " was 
 the bill to pay— a heavy bill of blood and gold that the Emperor 
 left to be settled by France, after having cowardly handed her over at 
 Sedan and thrown all the gates wide open to invasion, while he went 
 and hid his shame in England." 
 
 " You are treating him nicely ! " 
 
 " Not worse than you treat Cheops." 
 
 " Oh ! As for that matter I have no mercy for him ; his folly of 
 greatness outstrips all limits. Look here. Monsieur K^radec, I ask you 
 what is the result of this total of incredible efforts, if not to end in 
 gigantic puerility ? For what good ? Why ? What is the utility 
 of it?" 
 
 " What is the utility of the Venus of Milo ? " 
 
 " I can't say there is much, but it is beautiful."
 
 USE AND OBJECT OF THE PYEAMIDS. 175 
 
 " Well ! Monsieur Coqnillard, the pyramid of Cheops is quite as 
 useless as the Venus of Milo, but it is sublime ! " 
 
 " Sublime ? " 
 
 " Yes, One'sime/' added Jacques, " almost as much so as your 
 astonishment." 
 
 " What ! Tu quoque ! Decidedly Pharaoh has bewitched you ; you 
 are hypnotised ; you are under the influence of a mental suggestion, a 
 physical illusion, which his shade, or rather his double, who wanders 
 around us, has imposed on you. Brrr I Let us get out of this 
 mummy's hole quickly ; I am afraid of contagion." 
 
 " Be at ease, Monsieur Coquillard; this kind of disease only attacks 
 certain kinds of brains." 
 
 " That is quite possible, but let us leave here, all the same. My 
 brain only needs to be one of those ! " 
 
 '' Fear nothing, Onesime ; there are privileged natures like yours 
 that are sheltered from everything, even poverty, you happy mortal ! " 
 
 " Unfortunately not for long, if your cataclysm succeeds." 
 
 '*' But I suppressed it to oblige you." 
 
 " Excuse me, I forgot ! " 
 
 And following the guides, who had now gone out, they retraced 
 their steps, and soon found themselves at the entrance, and then at the 
 bottom, of the pyramid. A generous baksheesh delivered them from 
 their conductors, and they went and seated themselves on a stray 
 block in the shade of Khout-the-Brilliant. 
 
 " Ouf ! " sighed Onesime, sinking down on the stone. " Anyhow, 
 one can breathe here " ; and, addressing himself to the Doctor, who 
 was rolling one of his eternal cigarettes, — 
 
 " Look here. Monsieur Keradec, now that we are alone in the open 
 air, beyond that unhealthy tunnel, and the pernicious influence of that 
 rascal Cheops, and no longer fear his evil eye, now, seriously, do you 
 consider that beautiful ? " And he extended his hand towards the 
 pyramid. 
 
 " That, Monsieur Coquillard, that calcareous mountain ? " 
 
 " In8tar montium eductce" interrupted Onesime, with disguised 
 gravity.
 
 176 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Fortent08(B moles,^'' continued the Doctor, smiling. " Tliis formu- 
 lated immensity, hiding beneath a studied simplicity of lines jirodigies 
 in dynamics and statics, anheard-of perfection of detail, the beauty of 
 a magnificent execution, is an indestructible witness of the implacable 
 pride of the Pharaohs and of the grandiose audacity of the genius 
 of their architect. He has marked his sublime work, of absolute 
 sincerity, with the seal of eternity, of which it is the symbol ; he has 
 created the most vast and durable product of art." 
 
 " Do you hear ? " said Onesime to Jacques, with an air of profound 
 conviction. " Who would ever have imagined that there were so many 
 things hidden beneath it ? " 
 
 " Certainly not you ! " 
 
 " Oh I you, you would draw emptiness from life, as a companion 
 picture to the famous ' Passage of the Red Sea by the Hebrews.' " 
 
 " Why not ? They photograph the invisible." 
 
 " The invisible ? " 
 
 " The invisible ; they photographed Mont Blanc during the night." 
 
 "■ Without candles ? " 
 
 " Without candles. But ask Monsieur Keradec." 
 
 " Certainly, in 1883, at the commencement of September, M. 
 Singer photographed Mont Blanc in the middle of the night." 
 
 " And he succeeded ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " So much so," added Jacques very seriously, " that Mont Blanc 
 recognised itself at once." 
 
 " And no doubt immediately ordered a dozen album photos ? " 
 
 " I did not ask him that. And the pyramids served, Doctor " 
 
 " Simply as sepulchres. They were tombs hermetically closed, the 
 colossal stone envelope of a mummy ; they were covered with a 
 smooth casing like a cuirass, formed of brilliant and variously coloured 
 stones, probably alternating in horizontal bands, red, black, pink, 
 green ; a terminating stone crowned this gigantic mosaic, which, 
 beneath the reverberation of the powerful rays of the sun, must have 
 been brightly resplendent and have thoroughly deserved its name of 
 Khout-the-Brilliant."
 
 USE AND OBJECT OF THE PYRAMIDS. 177 
 
 " It must have produced the effect of an enormous mirror for larks, 
 and have horribly fatigued the sight," concluded Onesime. " It is not 
 surprising that there were so many blind people at the period." 
 
 " And now ? " answered Jacques. 
 
 " Oh ! now they are only one-eyed, and that is by atavism." 
 
 " Near the eastern side," continued Ke'radec, " was a mortuary 
 chapel, where the scribes attached to the monument received the 
 oflferings and performed the prescribed rites. 
 
 "One of the three pyramids that you have noticed at a short 
 distance from the eastern side is the tomb of the daughter of 
 Cheops ; around it you see a series of long lines of mastabas ; those 
 are the sepulchres of grand dignitaries of the Court in the vicinity 
 of the tomb of their Pharaoh, who covers them with his great 
 shadow." 
 
 " And, no doubt, Monsieur K^radec," inquired Onesime, " you have 
 quite an assortment of little hypotheses to explain the object or the 
 use of the pyramids ? " 
 
 " Oh ! they are not wanting; I will quote you a few; but remember 
 that they are only hypotheses, and that 1 am not the father of them. 
 According to Pliny, the motive of the Pharaohs in building the 
 pyramids was either not to leave their treasures to successors or rivals 
 who might wish to supplant them, or to prevent the people from 
 being idle." 
 
 " Generous souls ! Excellent Pharaohs ! Pushing their solicitude 
 so far as to provide amusements for their subjects. Hearts of gold ! " 
 murmured Onesime. 
 
 " Some believe that the perfect orientation of the pyramid shows 
 its astronomical destination ; it served for scientific purposes ; it was 
 a sort of indestructible metrical standard ; the construction and 
 arrangement remained a rigorous demonstration of the quadrature of 
 the circle." 
 
 " Demonstration of an absurdity I Why not suppose at once that 
 they served for a geometrical diagram in the open air ? " 
 
 " One has seen gnomons that measured the length of the days 
 by the shadows they threw." 
 
 12
 
 178 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " That's it ! A sort of belfry of Egypt. That idea must have 
 issued from the brain of a clockmaker or a German doctor." 
 
 " Lighthouses guiding the traveller in the desert." 
 
 " Funny lighthouses I They don't say whether they had fixed or 
 intermittent lights. That omission is unpardonable ! " 
 
 '' The Arabs of other days believed they had been erected in 
 prevision of a deluge, to deposit there the treasury of human 
 knowledge condemned to disappear." 
 
 " The loss would not have been great at the time." 
 
 " In the middle ages they looked upon them as granaries built by 
 Joseph, or his tomb." 
 
 " They were capable of anything in the middle ages." 
 
 " Some persons have seen in them a strange prank of nature, 
 like the Giants' Causeway in Ireland." 
 
 " It would be well if it were so, for the memory of the Pharaohs." 
 
 " The Copts believed, Monsieur Coquillard, that it was from the 
 summit of the pyramid that Pharaoh reviewed his troops." 
 
 " That's an idea ! They don't know if he had a lift to raise him up 
 there ? " 
 
 " They also attached symbolical ideas to them, established on the 
 most ingenious speculation." 
 
 " No doubt in the style of those you mentioned just now, 
 Monsieur Keradec?" 
 
 " Yes, about the same. The Arabs call them El-Heramat, the 
 old fairies, and believe that they were created by God long before 
 man." 
 
 " He had a lot of time to waste then ! " 
 
 " Time is God's, Monsieur Coquillard, and he can use it as he 
 pleases." 
 
 "And waste it, if one admits that he is the author of this 
 deformity in hewn stone, which would not be complimentary to 
 his good taste." 
 
 " According to the Druses, the pyramids are the places where 
 ■God keeps the register of the acts of all creatures, to consult it at 
 the day of judgment."
 
 HISTORY AND LEGENDS OF THE PYRAMIDS. 179 
 
 " Do yon hear that, Jacques ? The chronicle of yonr misdeeds 
 is there. Look out on the day of the Grand Assizes when they 
 try without appeal I " 
 
 " And you I For yours is in the same pigeon-hole, and your 
 irreverent observation in regard to the work of Jehovah, whom you 
 reproach with his want of taste, will be entered there." 
 
 "Finally, M. de Persigny considered them a barrier opposed to 
 the sand of the Libyan desert, the whirlwinds of which they broke up, 
 thus protecting the cities erected between the Nile and the desert." 
 
 " M. de Persigny was very clever, in science as well as politics." 
 
 " The Arabs relate that, in the pyramid of Mycerinus, which is the 
 most dreaded, there dwells a beautiful woman, who comes out at 
 night-time and drives mad the traveller who allows himself to be en- 
 snared by her charms. They add that genii, sometimes in the form 
 of a child, sometimes in that of an old man who burns incense, walk 
 round the monument. But," concluded Keradec, " we are leaving 
 hypotheses for the field of legend." 
 
 " The pyramids, then, have also their legends, Monsieur 
 Keradec ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " (^ertainly ! Like all the monuments that have any respect for 
 themselves, commencing with that of Cheops. If we are to place 
 any faith in what the Egyptian priests related to Herodotus, whose 
 credulity equalled his good faith, this is about what the father of 
 history tells us : — 
 
 "'After having extracted the blocks from the quarries at Toura 
 in the Arabian chain, and dragged them to the bank of the Nile and 
 from there carried them on to the other side, it required ten years 
 to make the road by which they were conveyed from the Nile to the 
 Libyan highland and to excavate the subterranean chambers on which 
 the monument was erected. The pyramid itself took twenty years 
 to build, and cost six hundred talents. One hundred thousand men 
 were employed on the works, and were changed every three mouths.' " 
 
 " But that is not a legend." 
 
 " Wait a bit ! Tradition adds that ' Cheops, exhausted by the 
 expense, reached such a point of infamy as to prostitute his daughter
 
 180 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 to get money, and that not only did she perform her father's will, 
 bnt that, wishing also to have her own mansolenm, she requested 
 each of her lovers to give her a stone to build her pyramid, which is 
 between the two facing her father's.' " 
 
 " When I told you your Pharaoh was a worthless fellow," Onesime 
 hastened to remark, " facts show me to be right." 
 
 " Only tradition, Monsieur Coquillard." 
 
 " Tradition is sufficient for me when it accords with common 
 sense." 
 
 " Or rather with your wishes, Onesime." 
 
 " It's all one." 
 
 "Chephren, Monsieur Coquillard, also obliged the Egyptians to 
 build him a pyramid, Ur't-the-Great." 
 
 "A good dog hunts by hereditary instinct." 
 
 " ' The Egyptians ' — it's Herodotus who is speaking — ' have such 
 an aversion for the memory of those two kings, whose odious 
 reputation of tyranny outlived their death for centuries, that they 
 will not even name them ; they call these monuments, for this 
 reason, by the name of a shepherd, Philitis, who in those days took 
 his flocks to feed in that neighbourhood.' " 
 
 " You see," interrupted Onesime, beaming, " that I am not the 
 only one who has them in horror, these monsters of Pharaohs ; already, 
 in their own time, the people could not bear them." 
 
 " Always according to tradition. Monsieur Coquillard ; Diodorus 
 goes even so far as to say that neitlier Cheops nor Chephren enjoyed 
 their tombs, the people in fury having risen and torn their bodies 
 from the sarcophagi." 
 
 " They were not hated without deserving it, those tomb-builders, 
 if the thing be true." 
 
 " The successor of Chephren, Mycerinus, even-tempered and 
 beloved of his subjects though he was, nevertheless had his 
 pyramid built." 
 
 " I no longer follow you, Monsieur Keradec. Why did the 
 Egyptians show so much indulgence for this Mycerinus, who played 
 them the same trick with his pyramid as Cheops and Chephren ?
 
 HISTORY AND LEGENDS OF THE PYRAMIDS. 181 
 
 I understand their hatred for these two latter, but I cannot comprehend 
 their love for the third." 
 
 " That would seem to prove, Monsieur Coquillard, that either 
 Herodotus has made a mistake or has been deceived, and that the 
 Egyptians, after all, were not very discontented with their kings. It 
 is also said of Myceriuus that, having fallen in love with his own 
 daughter, he took her by violence ; that this young princess having 
 strangled herself through despair, her father had her body placed in 
 a wooden heifer which he had had gilded, and that she received divine 
 honours. It is added that her mother had the hands of her dausrhter's 
 attendants cut off for having delivered her to Myceriuus." 
 
 " A model father. What else ? " 
 
 " A sliort time after the loss of his only daughter he knew by an 
 oracle that he had only six years to live, and that he would die in the 
 seventh. The oracle, consulted again, having confirmed the prophecy, 
 Myceriuus had recourse to stratagem. He had a great number of 
 lamps made. When the night came he had them lighted, and passed 
 his time drinking and enjoying himself without interruption either 
 day or night. He intended, by converting days into nights, to double 
 the number of years — of six to make twelve — and to show the oracle 
 had lied." 
 
 " A nice family I One prostitutes, the other ravishes, his own 
 daughter, and is then drunk day and night for six consecutive years ; 
 and that's the famous legendary wisdom of Egypt which was inherited 
 by the Greeks. I wouldn't have accejtted the legacy until I had seen 
 an inventory of it I " 
 
 " Diodorus of Sicily attributes this pyramid to Inarus. Others 
 pretend that it is the tomb of the courtesan Rhodojiis, ' with rosy 
 cheeks.' 
 
 ''Strabo relates, in reference to this, the following charming 
 legend : One day, while bathing, au eagle carried off one of her shoes, 
 which was being held by her attendant, and took it to Memphis. 
 The king was then meting out justice. The eagle, hovering above his 
 head, let the slipper foil in his lap. The sovereign, surprised at this 
 singular event and at the smallness of the shoe, had the woman to
 
 182 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 whom it belonged sought for throiio:liout the land. She was found at 
 Naucratis ; they presented her to the king, and he made her his wife. 
 When she died they gave her this pyramid for a sepulchre." 
 
 " That was very nice, anyhow," admitted One'sime. 
 
 " Herodotus, alas ! destroys this pretty Cinderella story in a few 
 lines. Rhodopis, whom Sappho calls Doricha, he says, was horn in 
 Thrace. She was a slave of ladmon, a man of Hepha^stopolis, in the 
 island of Samos, a companion in slavery of iEsop the fabulist. She 
 was brought to Egypt by Xanthus, of Samos, to exercise the calling 
 of courtesan. Charaxus, of Mitylene, son of Scamandronyme and 
 brother of Sappho, gave a considerable sum for her ransom. Having 
 thus recovered her liberty, she remained in Egypt, where her beauty 
 procured her great wealth for a woman of her class, but much inferior 
 to what was necessary to build such a pyramid. Besides, the amount 
 of her fortune is known, a tenth part having been laid out by her in 
 purchasing iron spits to roast bullocks for the Temple of Delj)hi, so as 
 to transmit her name to posterity. Moreover, Rhodopis did not live 
 under Mycerinus, but under Amasis ; that is to say, many years after 
 the death of the kings who built the pyramids." 
 
 " So much the worse," said Jacques. " I liked the legend better." 
 
 " The truth is very ugly, then, for you to prefer the fable," 
 remarked Onesime, jeeringly. " Fortunately, you are not an historian, 
 or you would relate fine things, with your fancy for the marvellous." 
 
 " You," responded Jacques, "if you were an historian, you would 
 hold a class on morality, or on the history of the pot-au-feu, from the 
 commencement of the world to our own times." 
 
 " Do not despise the j^ot-au-feu too much ! A Minister fell in 
 France because he did not appreciate it as he should have done in 
 politics." 
 
 " But what could have been, in your opinion. Monsieur Coquillard, 
 the aim of the authors of the pyramids ? I am curious to learn your 
 views." 
 
 " The aim, Monsieur Ke'radec ? Has a madman any aim ? Does 
 one discuss the acts of a jjcrsou deprived of the power of discerning ? 
 For this pretentious dolmen, as well as all its megalithic congeners,
 
 onesdie's theoeies. 183 
 
 is the work of a cruel fool served by a gang of imbecile slaves, under 
 the direction of an architect who is all the more blamable for lending 
 himself to this monstrous farce, as he possessed greater talent. One 
 should not squander one's genius on tomfoolery, even though it 
 assume colossal proportions. That is what I think of this calcareous 
 fetish, of this stuj^id and murderous idol ; this Egyptian Melkarth, 
 that, raised amidst the maledictions of an atrociously oppressed people, 
 absorbed for thirty years, without truce or mercy, the work and often 
 the lives of thousands of poor creatures, to satisfy the ghastly whim 
 of a vain Pharaoh, passing his life in preparing a first-class funeral 
 for himself. 
 
 "As to those symbols of eternity, those epithets of sublime and 
 other idle terms, ejusdemforince, with which you gratuitously muffle 
 up this massive extinguisher, which has so easily set your imagina- 
 tion in activity, expressions that would really make any one think 
 that an infinity of elevated and superhuman ideas had presided at 
 its erection — well, profound men that you are, grave Egyptologists, 
 they must be utilised elsewhere ; the skin does not fit the animal I 
 You have once more allowed your imagination to carry you away for 
 nothing. In face of the requirements of your too narrow logic and the 
 astounding abstractions of your thought, which will not admit the 
 uselessness, as absolute as evident, of such a work, you are in vain 
 puzzling yourselves to find a pretext, if not a reason, for its existence ; 
 you cannot or you will not get into your heads that this hybrid 
 mountain was built without rhyme or reason, and you are racking your 
 brains to find out the why, in proportion to its size, of a thing which 
 never had any other reason for its existence than the mad fit of a 
 despot afflicted with the monomania of a tomb on a large scale, a 
 disease which he transmitted to his descendants. It is Pharaoh, that 
 great conculcator of the people, as he called himself, who would 
 enjoy a good laugh if he could hear you confabulating in this way on 
 his masonry, striving to explain this riddle which he has uncon- 
 sciously left behind him, unless one supposes that he did so with the 
 malicious thought of tormenting the learned men who would follow, 
 or attributes to him the intention of providing an income for the tribe
 
 184 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 of Arabs who show his tomb — his descendants, no doubt. If it be so, 
 it is the action of a good father, and quite in accordance with the 
 habits of the country, where they live by their ancestors, where the 
 sons retail the mummies of their parents to foreigners. If you think 
 I exaggerate, look ! "' And Out^sime, drawing with precaution some- 
 thing black, surrounded by wraps, from his coat pocket, took it delicately 
 between the thumb and forefinger, and satisfied the curiosity of his 
 listeners. 
 
 " What on earth is that ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " That," said Onesime triumphantly, " that is the hand of Ouser- 
 keres, in Egyptian Ousourkaf, first king of the old Memphite dynasty, 
 Ancient Empire, first period ! That is what it is. At least that is 
 what one of those Bedouins who hoisted me to the top of Cheops told 
 me, when he sold it me in spite of myself, and who seemed as if he 
 would leave me on the way if I didn't buy it ! I feel convinced that 
 it's the hand of his grandfather, perhaps of his father." 
 
 " Or his own," said Keradec, who had just attentively examined 
 the pretended hand of Ouserkeres. 
 
 " Or his own ? " exclaimed the stupefied Jacques and Onesime in 
 one breath. 
 
 " Yes, his own I That surprises you ? " 
 
 " More than you imagine." 
 
 " Yon see that great fellow stretched out on the ground there, 
 warming himself in the sand like a lizard ? " 
 
 '' But that's the man who sold it me." 
 
 " I thought so. Well ! I know him. Monsieur Coquillard ; it's 
 Youssouf" 
 
 " I believe you, but that doesn't explain to me how this hand " 
 
 " Is his. Patience I You have, or perhaps you have not, noticed 
 that he has lost tlie hand of his left arm ? " 
 
 " Exactly, I remember it now." 
 
 " And your hand of Ouserkeres is a left hand ? " 
 
 " Yes, but still that would not prove " 
 
 " No ! But it is of public notoriety that Youssouf, four years ago, 
 mutilated himself in order not to serve as a soldier, that to make up
 
 HISTOKY OF YOUSSOUf's HAND. 185 
 
 for the loss of his hand he mummified it, and since then he has been 
 endeavouring to get rid of it for a monetary consideration. He has 
 ended by palming the unsaleable article off on you. Last year it 
 was the hand of Amenhotep, after having been successively that of 
 Sesostris, Rameses, and others." 
 
 " But how did this become known ? " 
 
 " Everything is known here, the Arabs are so talkative I More- 
 over it was easy to guess: Youssouf had had his middle finger maimed, 
 of course, previous to the amputation ; the small phalanx of it was 
 wanting, and if you observe the hand that is in yours, you will notice 
 that that anatomical part is absent. Besides, the rascal a long time 
 ago acknowledged the deceit, not being al)le to hide it any longer." 
 
 " Well ! that's a crusher," said Ondsime, throwing Youssouf's hand 
 far away from him. 
 
 " Isn't it ? " 
 
 " Dissect and retail oneself I " 
 
 "But, my dear Ondsime, they do the same at home, less the 
 mummifying, to avoid the conscription ; it's likely enough, even, 
 that the Egyptians borrowed this habit from us, along with that of 
 drawing lots." 
 
 " Anyhow, you will nut tell me that we sell our grandfathers and 
 live on their corpses ? " 
 
 " Faith ! almost : doesn't a nobleman live on his ancestors ? Is it 
 not true that the consideration that attaches to an illustrious descendant 
 of a still more illustrious family permits of his picking up a fat 
 wedding dowry among the silly bourgeoisie, finding a little goose 
 sufficiently vain and dazzled by heraldry to ' manure Lis lands,' 
 according to the impertinent expression of these agreeable noblemen ? 
 Free, it is true, once the marriage consummated and the wedding 
 portion secured, not to receive the bride's parents, of whom he is 
 ashamed, and to relegate to the loft, after her demise, the portrait of 
 the intruder, tolerated rather than accepted by this society, which she 
 entered with a golden key and left by the door of oblivion, unworthy 
 to figure in the gallery of portraits of the family, who were already 
 offended at seeing her there in her lifetime."
 
 186 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " And, nevertheless," added Keradec, " the unfortunate woman had 
 done more than darn the noble rag, and regild the faded coat-of-arms. 
 She had i)ut into the veins of the successors that her robust fecundity 
 gave to her laTnguid aristocratic husband a little of the vigour that 
 labour deposits in the red blood of the plebeian class from which she 
 came, enriching the blue blood j^ervaded by the serum of those idle 
 and morbid races, the bastard produce of the descendants of the 
 Crusaders." 
 
 " Shall we be off ? " inquired Jacques, leaving his seat with the 
 Doctor, and all three advanced towards the haunted pyramid of 
 Myceriuus. 
 
 " I say, I hope we have finished with peregrinations and ascensions 
 intra^ extra, and, above all, supra mnros,''^ sighed On^sime. 
 
 " Make your mind easy. We have time for a pipe and to take a 
 stroll through a few mastabas to give us an appetite, and we will go 
 and recruit our strength in the shade of the Sphinx." 
 
 " Recruit our strength ? " 
 
 '' Yes. A surprise I have in store for j'OU." 
 
 " By Jove ! what a splendid idea you have had, Jacques ! And is 
 the feed to be a serious one ? " 
 
 " Serious as your appetite ; I joke with you, but never with your 
 stomach; it is too captious in that respect. And," consulting his watch, 
 " it is eleven o'clock," he continued ; " our automedon must be prepar- 
 ing the provisions. Our landlord, who is our ampliitryon, has acted 
 handsomely ; there are, among other choice things, truffles and a flask 
 of Clos-Vougeot of a fair year — a feast for a king ! He knows 3'our 
 tastes, shares them, and it gives him pleasure to satisfy them, so far 
 as he is able." 
 
 " Truffles ! Olos-Vougeot ! " repeated One'sime, whose face was all 
 at once beaming. " Are you sure there are truffles ? " 
 
 " I affirm it ! " 
 
 " And Clos-Vougeot ! of an— age ? " 
 
 " Respectable." 
 
 " Oh ! what a good, what an excellent man this landlord is ! How 
 can I express to him my gratitude ? Jacques ! you'll do his portrait ?
 
 TRUFFLES AND CLOS-VOUGEOT. 187 
 
 Truffles ! Clos-Vougeot ! and of a fair year, ye gods ! It's well worth 
 a portrait, isn't it ? It shall not be said that I have been ungrateful 
 to so amiable a man." 
 
 " You mean that it is I who shall not have been ungrateful, because 
 I shall have done the portrait." 
 
 " Yes, but it is I who will present it, my friend." 
 
 " Oh ! Then it's different ! " 
 
 " Reflect — you cannot do everything ! " 
 
 " That's true." 
 
 And Jacques, although accustomed to his friend's ways, could not 
 keep himself from laughing heartily at the singular manner, so naively 
 suggested to him by his egotism, of paying the debts of his stomach 
 with the work of others. Keradec had the greatest difficultv in 
 keeping serious. 
 
 " Truffles," murmured Ondsime, " Would they be from P^rigord ? " 
 and his eye inquired of Jacques. 
 
 " Ah ! as to that I am ignorant." 
 
 " And the year of the bottle ? " 
 
 " Equally so." 
 
 " Never mind. It does not matter much, we shall see ; I say, 
 J acques, are you sure your watch is right ? " 
 
 " Perfectly sure. Why ? " 
 
 " It seemed to me it was later than you said." 
 
 " Gourmand ! It's your appetite that's in advance ! " 
 
 " Perhaps I After all, the alluring perspective, of which you have 
 just given me an idea, in the near future, has quite comforted me " ; 
 and as a proof Ondsime danced about gaily, and, seizing Jac(|ues' arm, 
 started off at a smart pace, humming a popular air. 
 
 " Not so quick," said Jacques ; " reserve your strength, if only to 
 do honour to the lunch." 
 
 " Me ! I'd go to the end of the world now." 
 
 " It would not be difficult. Monsieur Coquillard ; you can go there 
 without moving from where you are." 
 
 " How is that ? " 
 
 " The earth being spherical, the end of the world is everywhere."
 
 188 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Oh, science, science ! " 
 
 As they talked, they reached the foot of the pyramid of Mycerinus, 
 Her-the-Superior. 
 
 " It is much smaller than its two neighbours," remarked Jacques. 
 
 " Yes," replied Keradec ; " but the interior chamber is more 
 beautiful than that of the two others ; it is entirely built of granite, 
 and the ceiling, hewn in the form of a vault, recalls the English Gothic 
 arch ; moreover, while in the axis of the pyramid, it has the peculiarity 
 of being hollowed out in the rock, and below the base of the monument, 
 which covers rather than contains it. 
 
 " It was formerly opened and closed again by the Khaliphs of 
 Egypt, Since then it was explored, in 1837, by (>olonel Wyse, who 
 penetrated into the sepulchral chamber and found the sarcophagus, 
 of brown basalt striated with blue streaks, which had contained 
 the mummy of Mycerinus. He collected a part of the remains of the 
 wooden coffin, and some bones and bands of the Pharaoh, which he 
 sent to London to the British Museum. The sarcophagus, which was 
 also sent to England, went to the bottom in sight of the Spanish 
 coast with the vessel that was transporting it. 
 
 " The opening of other chambers and the existence of numerous 
 passages obstructed by rubbish conveyed the idea that Her-the- 
 Superior might contain, or have contained, another tomb " 
 
 " That, perhaps, of your friend Doricha with the rosy cheeks ? 
 Supposing you were to make sure by visiting the inside." 
 
 "I should be afraid," answered Jacques, "of profaning the chamber 
 where she reposes by my presence." 
 
 " And if she were not reposing there ? " 
 
 " Then to lose my illusions as to the reality of the existence of 
 the charming Cinderella." 
 
 " And no later than yesterday you stood upon high terms to tell us 
 in a peremptory tone that ' legends were the splutterings of humanity 
 in the cradle,' and this and that, but now you grasp the first legend 
 that comes like a drowning man who seizes the pole that is extended 
 to him, and you cling on there. Ah ! you weathercock I " 
 
 '' I merely refer to the legend you fling in my face, out of pure
 
 HER-THE-SUPERIOR. 189 
 
 gallantry to a woman who desired that her name should be trans- 
 mitted to posterity." 
 
 " At the point of a spit for roasting bullocks ! " 
 
 " That is quite as good, in the interest of humanity, as going there 
 at the point of the sword," 
 
 " Hold your tongue, will you I Look here, you flirt with history 
 as you coquetted on board the Said with geography. In your hands 
 Nero would become a model of all the virtues, Lucullus would have the 
 sobriety of the camel, Messalina would be crowned a ros/e'r^, and so on 
 the others I And you would merely be imitating the bold innovators. 
 Thus, they quite recently made us a Bonaparte of a new model — 
 wonderful ! Nothing of the old one, for example : oh, nothing ! He 
 is perfectly new, this Bonaparte ; a real treat for amateurs. ' Cast 
 in a rare mould, composed of different metal from his fellow-citizens 
 and contemporaries, a condottiere of mediajval history re-born ; one 
 out of the ordinary, beyond comparison with Frenchmen born in the 
 eighteenth century ; belonging to another race, to another age, in 
 whom one perceives the foreigner at the first glance, the Italian and 
 something else besides, with no similitude or analogy ' — an impossible 
 being, in a word an algebraic formula ; nothing is wanting, a unique 
 mould, special qualities of an exotic race and of pre-historic times, a 
 miracle of the genus homo, and yet a foreigner and an Italian, some- 
 thing strange, allegorical, which at the same time does and does not 
 resemble another thing that does not exist. 
 
 " This portrait of Bonaparte in a new manner is a masterpiece. It 
 has none of the features of the ' Scamp of St. Helena,' by another 
 fanciful writer, and which proves much in favour of the vivacious 
 imagination of its author, of his picturesque ingenuity, and of his 
 repugnance to keep in beaten tracks. He is the worthy emulator 
 of a certain mayor, profoundly learned, who, in a book entitled 
 ' Literary and Historical Rectifications,' undertakes to convince us, 
 with a grand reinforcement of proofs and ' authentic ' documents, 
 that Joan of Arc was never burned at llouen, that she was saved 
 by devoted friends and married to a Lorraine nobleman. Well, my 
 dear Jacques, you handle facts in the same way : you take a tale here^
 
 190 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 a piece of gossip there, a little anecdote somewhere else, an extract 
 from secret memoirs; you look out some strange words, glaring, violent; 
 you slip a little wit into all this, even a good deal, set it in a pictorial 
 frame, improved l)y a well-tnrned style, with a phrase sometimes 
 sufficiently incomprehensible for the reader to be obliged to admire, in 
 confidence, a depth that escapes him, and yon fly your little historical 
 canard very prettily. It's a new system imitated from Alcibiades of 
 twisting the tail of one's dog, and cutting the ground from under the 
 feet of the learned, those imj^assioned erudites of science, those galley- 
 slaves of study, bending over big folios, eager in the pursuit of truth; 
 poor creatures, ignorant of life, passing their own lives in reading and 
 re-modelling those of the generations that have preceded them." 
 
 " It's more honest than giving them sops, as some do, covering 
 their inexactitude of facts by their daring assertions." 
 
 " You practise insinuation while others make use of intimidation, 
 but you all arrive at the same result." 
 
 "That of?" 
 
 " That of misrepresentation I " 
 
 " My system, however, is more polite." 
 
 " But more dangerous ; your weakness for fable and your facility 
 in accepting it can only be compared to your indifference for truth 
 and your carelessness in ascertaining facts ; you consider the oppor- 
 tunity rather than the reality ; your history is a pretentious legend, 
 witty or sentimental, attired in the garments of the historical; a bare- 
 faced servant, who impertinently adorns herself in the gown of her 
 mistress." 
 
 Jacques bowed, smiling. 
 
 The three friends, as they were talking, had almost got round the 
 pyramid ; as they turned the angle on the northern side they fell into 
 the midst of Cook and Son's packages. 
 
 " Hullo ! " cried in a single moment the six voices of those tourists, 
 with a familiarity that was rather disagreeable. " Where are you 
 going, old boys ? " 
 
 " Where you have probably come from," Jacques answered in 
 English ; " we are going to have a look at Chejihren's monument."
 
 COOK AND son's PACKAGES. 191 
 
 " Oh, Chephren ! "' exclaimed the educated one of the jjarty in 
 broken French ; " very pretty. We've all got a little bit of the 
 pyramids of Chephren and Cheops in our bags. Have you a small 
 piece of the stone, Mounsieu Coquwillarde ? " 
 
 " Neither large nor small. I don't understand carrying off the 
 pyramids of others, like that, in my pockets; I prefer taking away with 
 me the esteem of the people I visit, rather than their monuments." "It's 
 cool of those persons," he growled between his teeth, " to boast of such 
 a thing. It was quite bad enough to murder my name, without going 
 and stupidly tearing the epidermis away from these poor pyramids." 
 
 " And you, Mister Jack, have you secured some pieces of the old 
 witches ? " 
 
 " Not even the smallest. I consider that Time, the terrible 
 destroyer, has no need of assistance, certainly not of such a zealous 
 nature, in his ugly work. You ought, while you're about it, to put 
 a little sunshine in your pockets ; it would be welcome in London ! " 
 
 " Very good joke indeed ! " exclaimed the spokesman tourist ; 
 " it ought to be sent to Punchr And the sentence ran from mouth 
 to mouth until it reached the sixth, while a phenomenal smile passed 
 through the circle of inane and vulgar faces exhibited by these cockneys, 
 who had been packed up in London, and here let loose by Cook and 
 Son in the land of the Pharaohs. A shudder of disgust overran the 
 usual serenity of one of the Parisians, and he instinctively recoiled 
 before the tone which their conversation had taken. 
 
 " A very good joke indeed. Mister Jack ! " This was the last 
 echo of the mirth which, passing from one to the other, came and 
 died on the lips of the sixth Cook's Tourist. 
 
 " A good joke it may be, but assuredly less offensive and more 
 straightforward than the act of vandalism you have just accomplished. 
 When people receive you in their homes and show you their knick- 
 knacks, it is worse than bad taste to break pieces off and carry them 
 away as souvenirs. I cannot congratulate you, gentlemen, and I wish 
 you good day." And Jacques, touching his hat, continued on his way, 
 while the six tourists, escorted by their eighteen Arabs, sprang 
 forward to the assault of Mycerinus.
 
 192 THE LAND Of THE SPHINX. 
 
 "Put that in your bags with yonr little pieces of stone," said 
 Onesime, imitating the pronunciation of the Cookites. •' How ugly 
 they are, all the same ! What bad samples of England ! " 
 
 "If they were only ugly," replied Keradec; "but they are also 
 dangerous with that criminal mania which makes them attack every- 
 thing and dilapidate right and left. If they are allowed to continue, 
 in another century not a single monument will be intact ; they will 
 have done more damage in a few years than time in ages ! " 
 
 " Chephren's pyramid, Ur't-the-Great, has at least had the wit 
 to keep on a part of his outer clothing of granite, which protects 
 him against the destructive curiosity of these idiotic tourists." 
 
 " I would bet," added Onesime, " that Bonaparte's forty centuries 
 that formerly lodged on Khout sought refuge there to escape from 
 these stupid lithoclasts ; and one must imagine that they have led 
 a hard life these poor forty centuries, for they have become two 
 thousand years older since Bonaparte quitted Egypt." 
 
 " That was perhaps out of regret at seeing him leave them ! " 
 
 Keradec called their attention to a few traces, visible in places, 
 of the basement or stylobatum on which is built the pyramid 
 of Chephren, less buried in rubbish than its neighbours; then, to 
 On^sime's great delight, they advanced towards the Sphinx : they soon 
 reached a spot from which it could be seen. 
 
 But there Onesime could perceive the final preparations for 
 lunch ; with moist lips, sparkling eyes, dilated nostrils, he seemed 
 to sniff from afar, in the air, vague odours of truffles, and to imagine 
 he inhaled the intoxicating bouquet of the divine bottle of Burgundy, 
 and his stomach thrilled with the violence of his eager desire ! He 
 hastened his steps, accelerated at each second ; then, all at once, 
 unable to restrain himself any longer, giving way to the imperious 
 entreaties of his appetite, dashed along at full speed towards the 
 object so ardently pursued, while Jacques and the Doctor stopped to 
 contemplate the Sphinx. 
 
 The monster, with a human head, the body of a lion, hewn in 
 the rock itself, rests squatting in its calm and powerful attitude, 
 buried to the shoulders in its shroud of sand ; the head alone emerges,
 
 'Klliriiiililllilii:i:iliii!ii!!!lllia!illllilliB!iint! 
 
 13
 
 THE WATCHilAN OF THE DESEET. 
 
 195 
 
 bearing the imprint of that imposing serenity which one finds every- 
 where on the visages of the gods in Egyptian statuary. Its placid 
 face, to which the mutilated nose, a deep incision in the forehead, 
 and the broad gaslies furrowing its cheeks, give a redoubtable 
 appearance, contemplates the Orient, searching the desert with its 
 melancholy look ; its thick-lipped mouth, slightly curled up at the 
 corners, has the vague and long resigned smile of the fellaheen ; its 
 
 Chephren's Pyramid, 
 
 large ear seems to listen to every murmur, and on its giant-like neck 
 the royal bands that ornament its forehead fall in rigid plaits. 
 
 This strange figure, " the marvellous production of the gods," is 
 frightful in its solemn immobility ; one feels oneself shudder before 
 this mute guardian of Cyclopean tombs, this advanced sentinel of 
 I^gypt, whose mysterious gaze eternally fathoms the depths of the 
 desert, listening impassive to the distant hollow sound of advancing 
 hosts coming upon the land of tlie Pharaohs, as it once listened to
 
 196 THE LAKD OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the lamentations and despairing maledictions of the labourers who 
 built the pyramids. 
 
 The flux and reflux of invasions have beaten against its stone 
 breast without shaking it ; time has forgotten it, and for more than 
 six thousand years the sombre visage of the genius of Africa continues 
 to gaze at the Orient and to receive the morning kiss of Horus. 
 
 It is the ancestor, disfigured by pigmies, of that mute race of 
 Titans hewn summarily in the granite, with astonishing delicacy 
 of chisel, observing the centuries pass by, stiff'ened in their rigid 
 attitudes. 
 
 It is "the Father of the Terrible" of the Arabs, who fly from 
 this enormous head which rises out of the earth. 
 
 Finally, it is the monstrous enigma of the history of Egypt which, 
 in proportion as one seeks to penetrate the mystery, removes farther 
 and farther away the landmarks of an historical past, which is lost 
 still more profoundly in the night of ages. 
 
 " Was it not a symbol ? Did it not personify Horus ? " asked 
 Jacques. 
 
 " Yes ; for the Egyptians it was Hor-Em-Kou, Horus in the 
 brilliant sun. The Greeks called it Harmachis, Horus on the horizon, 
 and also Agathodemon ; it symbolised the victory of Horus over 
 Typhon, of light over darkness ; and personified the idea, reduced 
 to its most simple expression, but boldly set forth, of the resurrection. 
 Formerly it was overlaid with a coating of red colour, of which some 
 traces remain. At the period of Cheops it was restored, which 
 gives it then a respectable age, but one does not yet know to whom 
 to attribute the foundation. Will the excavations that are being 
 made at this moment give the secret of the enigma ? Is there any- 
 thing else between the paws of the Sphinx than the altar, the little 
 model shrine, and the lion discovered by Caviglia at the commence- 
 ment of this century, or in the granite temple found by Mariette in 
 the neighbourhood ? The future will tell us." 
 
 "And what was that granite temple. Monsieur Keradec ? " 
 
 " It was the Temple of the Sphinx, at least it is thought so, but I 
 see your friend Monsieur Coquillard, who is signalling to us to come ;
 
 THE TEMPLE OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 197 
 
 it wonld be unkind to make his stomacli wait too long, and we should 
 do well to go and join him." 
 
 " At last ! " exclaimed Onesime, seeing them approach ; and 
 when they were all seated on a soft Turkey carpet, around an 
 immaculate white table-cloth, on which Mahmoud, their Arab coach- 
 man, had placed the victuals, he gave a final glance, and seeing 
 everything arranged to his desire, he said in a grave tone, " Now, 
 gentlemen, to table I " and seating himself with his le^s crossed 
 
 
 — .-.T^. 
 
 -,S^^ 
 
 
 The Temple of the Sphinx. 
 
 Arab fashion, he took possession of an appetising truffled fowl, 
 which he began to cut in pieces with surprising dexterity. There soon 
 remained nothing of the succulent poulard but — the souvenir. The 
 other provisions disappeared with the same rapidity. At dessert, 
 Onesime, with solemn deliberation, uncorked the venerable bottle of 
 Clos-Vougeot — " Your countrywoman," said he to Jacques. He was 
 quite charmed when the perfume of its bouquet reached him, and it 
 was with a sort of tenderness that he filled the glasses ; listening 
 attentively to the harmonious tune of its gurgling, he praised as a
 
 198 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 connoisseur the rutilant onion-peel colour of tlie infatuating nectar. 
 Then, raising Ms glass, smiling at the rosy liquor : " Gentlemen," he 
 said, " honour to whom honour is due. I drink to Noah, who was the 
 first to plant the vine I " And he absorbed at one draught the contents 
 of the glass. " To the last drop, gentlemen," he added. 
 
 "Your toast is wrong. Monsieur Coquillard," said the Doctor, 
 setting down his empty glass ; " we should drink to the glory of tlie 
 divine Osiris." 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " To Osiris," continued Ke'radec, " who, after having instructed man 
 
 in agriculture " 
 
 " I don't care a bit for that ! " 
 
 " He found the vine in the land of Nyse, discovered the secret of 
 cultivating it, was the first to drink wine, and taught the Egyptians 
 how to make it and preserve it." 
 
 " Ah I By Jove ! If that be true it was a stroke of genius on his 
 part." 
 
 " The Greeks called him Dionysus, from the name of his father Ion 
 and that of the town of Nyse, where he had been brought up ; they 
 also say that he was none other than Bacchus, and that he went over 
 the rest of the universe teaching mankind to cultivate the earth and 
 plant the vine, and to renounce at the same time their barbarous habit 
 of eating each other." 
 
 " Another glory overboard ! After all, I do not much regret it ! 
 He was a pitiful drinker, Father Noah, who did not know how to carry 
 his wine decently." 
 
 " And," added Keradec, " he had children who were very badly 
 brought up." 
 
 " I withdraw my toast. To Osiris then ! " and Onesime, filling the 
 glasses again, warmly toasted the benefactor of humanity. 
 
 Then Mahmoud handed them the coffee; the Doctor rolled a 
 cigarette, Jacques pulled out his pipe and Onesime a cigar ; and there, 
 in the shade of the Sphinx, beneath the blue sky, on that golden sand, 
 they indulged in an indolent, delicious, idle doze, yielding to the sweet 
 oppression of a voluptuous digestion. They suffered themselves to be
 
 TO THE HEALTH OF OSIRIS ! 199 
 
 slowly penetrated by the enjoyment produced by that subtle glow 
 which irradiates from the stomach, the mysterious laboratory where 
 the synthesis of our aliments is solved ; and whence the blood, after 
 being aerated by the lungs, becomes charged with vital force, the 
 gift of the sun, which causes to circulate in all our being happiness, 
 strength, life. 
 
 Onesime was the incarnate personification of absolute beatitude ; 
 his back against a cushion of the carriage, which he had made 
 Mahmoud jjlace between him and the rock, with arms crossed, the 
 mouth half open, the eyes moist, he was no longer conscious of any- 
 thing, if not of the well-being in which he revelled. 
 
 " You don't happen to have a looking-glass ? " he inquired lang- 
 uidly of Jacques. 
 
 " A looking-glass ? No. "What for ? " 
 " To gaze at myself and contemplate my happiness." 
 " Sybarite, who wishes to enjoy the very reflection of his happiness ! " 
 " It's so delightful to be happy," murmured Onesime, while his 
 eyelids closed. " Honest Osiris ! And it is to thee, the father of 
 wine, that I owe this supreme felicity, and those idiots of Arabs, those 
 inejit water-drinkers, have called thee the Father of the Terrible, the 
 brutes I All the same, Osiris did not know our Clos-Yougeot, poor 
 man ! " And Onesime's voice, become more and more weak, died on 
 his lijjs with that last word, while a faint smile, full of soft irony, 
 fluttered over his half-oj^ened mouth : his head fell gently on his 
 shoulder, and he slumbered in his happiness. 
 
 " Thotmes IV.," said Keradec, •' also fell asleep on his return 
 from hunting, four and a half thousand years ago, at the feet of the 
 watchman of the desert. He dreamt that Horus ordered him to 
 remove the sand that covered his image ; struck by the dream and 
 considering that it was his duty to listen to the warning, be 
 cleared the Sphinx, and had the event inscribed on a stela that still 
 exists." 
 
 *' Happy One'sime ! " said Jacques ; " let us leave him to his dear 
 sleep ; we'll ask him wlien he awakes whether Osiris appeared to him 
 in his slumbers."
 
 200 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Let US go for a turn to tlie granite temj^le, Monsieur Jacques; it's 
 a few steps away." 
 
 " Willingly." And after having confided Onesime to the care of 
 Malimoud, who, armed with a fly-flipper, protected the sleep of this 
 innocent, they proceeded towards the ruined temjile, situated about 
 two hundred paces from the Sphinx. 
 
 From the foot, or rather from the uppermost border of the edifice, 
 which, buried in the sand, has its top on a level with the ground, 
 the eye may wander over the interior, through the large open spaces of 
 the caved-in roof. 
 
 " Here," said Keradec, " is what Strabo dares to call an edifice 
 ' of barbarian style.' Of barbarian style ! This structure, unique 
 in its powerful and taciturn originality, its huge blocks of granite 
 matched with such perfect art, the vast rectangular halls of which, 
 with walls lined .with alabaster, are paved with the same stone, and 
 the ceilings supported by quadrangular pillars, enormous monoliths 
 of pink granite, admirably polished, fifteen feet high by three and 
 five feet broad, set up with the greatest care ! 
 
 " You can see that the walls on the inside are absolutely bare ; 
 neither moulding, nor bas-reliefs, nor mural paintings, nor inscrip- 
 tions—nothing to indicate its destination or the period of its 
 construction, nothing but a perfectly smooth surface. Outside, the 
 same rigid simplicity ; blocks of calcareous stone with plain surfaces, 
 ornamented with long vertical and horizontal grooves cleverly 
 crossed ; in a corner a small door. 
 
 " In a deep well containing water, situated in one of the halls 
 and now filled in, Mariette found several mutilated statues, -engraved 
 with the name of Chephren, among which was one of diorite, almost 
 intact, beautifully sculptured, which is now at the Boulak Museum. 
 
 " Under what circumstances they were thrown into this well 
 nobody knows. Nor has it transjiired whether the place is a temple 
 or a tomb. Was it the mortuary chapel of Chephren ? Was it the 
 tomb of the king who had the Sphinx sculptured? Was it the 
 Temple of the Sphinx itself? So many questions here remain 
 unanswered in face of the rigorous silence of these stones. It
 
 THEOUGH THE MASTABAS. 
 
 201 
 
 
 keeps its secret like the Sphinx ; like it, widens the horizons of 
 history to an incredible distance, 
 and tickles the curiosity of science, 
 putting the ingenious perspicacity of 
 the learned at fault." 
 
 " We find among this people," 
 said Jacques, " a sculptor capable 
 of hewing in the massive rock a 
 colossus with such beautiful pro- 
 portions as the Sjjhinx, an architect 
 able to arrange the jjlan of this 
 building, and workmen who could 
 move these enormous blocks, set 
 them up so skilfully, match them 
 with such consummate art. This 
 people must, at the jieriod when 
 these two monuments were produced, 
 have arrived at a high degree of 
 civilisation, and it would have re- 
 quired thousands of centuries to 
 prepare that condition." 
 
 While chatting they had reached 
 the tombs of the First Empire, 
 dating from the Fourth Dynasty, at 
 the end of the Pharaonic period. 
 
 " We are among what they term mastabas, I think. Monsieur 
 Keradec ? " 
 
 "■ That is the name they give them. The mastaba, you see, is 
 an aidiculum of a rectangular massive form, containing one or several 
 chambers, arranged from north to south. A single door gave access 
 to the interior, which received daylight by that opening only. The 
 walls of this room, or those where the relatives of the departed came 
 on certain anniversaries to accomplish funeral rites, were almost 
 always decorated with bas-reliefs, representing scenes of every-day 
 life. At the end, facing the east, was a stela bearing a prayer. 
 
 statue of Chephien.
 
 202 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Below the stela was the table of offerings ; it was granite, alabaster, 
 or calcareous stone ; sometimes a statue of the deceased was placed 
 there. 
 
 " In the thickness of the masonry was a corridor lofty and narrow, 
 the serdab, with completely naked walls, which was closed up ; it 
 contained the statues of the dead. 
 
 " In the great axis of the edifice was sunk a square well, the 
 orifice of which opened either in the room itself or on the summit 
 of the mastaba. That well penetrated vertically in the rock to a, 
 depth varying between thirty-six and eighty feet, ending at a very 
 low, horizontal passage, which led to a vault where the sarcophagus 
 containing the mummy was placed. The walls of this vault were 
 bare, like those of the serdab; nothing is found there but great 
 red pointed vases, small alabaster calyx-shaped cups, bullocks' bones, 
 and wooden or alabaster head-rests. When once the mummy was. 
 deposited and hermetically shut up in the sarcophagus, the passage 
 was walled up and the well filled and closed for ever ! 
 
 " We shall also meet with tombs hewn in the rock, underground ; 
 there are several in the neighbourhood, opposite the second pyramid, 
 as well as near that of Mycerinus." 
 
 They now found themselves in the midst of regular rows of 
 mastabas of the Ancient Empire to the west of the pyramid of Cheops. 
 They stopped an instant at the edge of the peculiar tomb of Campbell, 
 a well, almost fifty feet deep, containing another sarcophagus in 
 black basalt. Then they wandered somewhat at hazard through 
 these multitudes of tombs, spread round about the pyramids. 
 
 Jacques examined the various subjects represented on the walls 
 with curious attention : here, scenes of farming, of the pursuit of 
 wild fowl, of breeding cattle, of navigation ; groups of musicians or 
 dancers ; farther on were people leading animals, others picking 
 fruit and making wine ; games on the water, athletes wrestling ; one 
 of the most interesting represented an Egyptian bandaging a mummy, 
 while another was painting the mask that was to cover the deceased's 
 face. The strange contrast offered by this series of pictures of 
 exuberant life, graven on the walls of these aisles of death, powerfully
 
 AT THE HOTEL. 
 
 203 
 
 attracted Jacques' attention, and Keradec gave him the best informa- 
 tion in his power. 
 
 At length, tired of this funeral procession amidst the tombs 
 of princes, princesses, and high personages, they rejoined Onesime, 
 who, rested by his excellent nap, had relit a cigar, and was sipping 
 a second cup of coffee which the attentive Mahmoud had brought 
 him. The latter ran to put the horses to, and at the expiration of an 
 hour he set the trio down at the door of their hotel.
 
 View of the Citadel. 
 
 CHAPTEK X. 
 
 Onesime thanks his landlord. — How the wise are asses and the asses wise. — The 
 Mosque of Hassan.— Neglect of the Arabs.— The Mosque of Touloun.— The 
 legend of its minaret. — Onesime admires the Sultans and their mosques as 
 much as he abhors the Pharaohs and their monuments. — His horror of reli- 
 gions and their ministers. — Oratorical explosion. — One'sime's polUce verso. — 
 There ! — Polyandry among the Arabs. — The Citadel. ^Joseph's Well. — 
 One'sime will not visit it. — The Mosque of Mahomet Ali.— Ondsime sleeps 
 there on his feet. — Sudden awakening. — How Jacques saved his life. — 
 Sunset. 
 
 ON£SIME,in the ardour of good digestion, hastened to go in search 
 of his sympathetic landlord ; he thanked him profusely, and 
 persuaded him with some difficulty to accept his portrait painted by 
 Jacques, in remembrance of his amiable services to the party ; then he 
 rejoined the Doctor and Jacques, who were awaiting him. 
 
 '' Well ! " he exclaimed, on making his appearance, " our dear 
 amphitryon accepts." 
 
 "Accepts what ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " His portrait, which you will paint for him, of course ! " 
 
 " That's very kind of him." 
 
 " I had some trouble in persuading him, and in overcoming his 
 scruples, but at last I succeeded. The charming man, he does not 
 know what it is to refuse anything ! " 
 
 204
 
 ONESIME THANKS HIS LANDLOED. 205 
 
 " That's a pity," murmured Jacques. 
 
 "• Yon know," continued Onesime, who had not heard the interrup- 
 tion, " YOU must do his hands in the portrait." 
 
 " They shall be done." 
 
 " You understand, it would be. stingy to do the head only." 
 
 "Oh 1 Absolutely stingy." 
 
 " Would it not ? Especially as he was not sparing. What 
 truffles ! What wine ! Be liberal, my friend, liberal ! " 
 
 " We'll be liberal ; the hands shall be there, even the feet, if you 
 wish it." 
 
 " I hardly dared suggest that." 
 
 " I admire your reserve." 
 
 " But as you desire it " 
 
 " It would be wrong on my part to raise any objection," answered 
 Jacques, laughing and concluding Onesime's phrase. " That is the 
 reply you wanted to make." 
 
 " You guessed my thoughts." 
 
 " I know you so well." 
 
 " A portrait from head to foot ! I hope it will not be said that 
 I eke out my gratitude." 
 
 " Xor that it costs you dear ! " observed Jacques. 
 
 " Ah ! you see I am not a Croesus. I am sometimes obliged to 
 reckon." 
 
 " Not with me though ! " 
 
 " I never reckon with my friends," remarked Onesime, with dignity. 
 
 " Such a sentiment does you honour." 
 
 " And I thank you for appreciating it as it deserves." 
 
 " You are coming with us ? We are going to see the Citadel." 
 
 " Is the Citadel very far away ? " 
 
 " Half an hour's trot, on a donkey, at the most." 
 
 " That's reasonable." 
 
 " Here is the very thing," added Ke'radec, who had just leant out 
 of the window. " Our recent acquaintances, Ahmed, Hassan, Abdallah, 
 and their 'learned ones,' must have been on the look-out for our 
 return, for I see thev are before the door waiting for us to go out."
 
 206 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Their ' learned ones ' ? " inquired Onesime. 
 
 " Their donkeys, if you jn-eter it ; it was thus that Bonaparte's 
 soldiers designated the prancing Cairo donkeys at the commencement 
 of the Egyptian campaign. Later on, they rendered to Caesar what 
 belonged to Cc\3sar, and the parties took their respective names again." 
 
 " And what was the origin of this distinction accorded to Master 
 Aliboron, or of this uncomplimentary denomination of your condisciples 
 Monsieur Keradec ? " 
 
 " As follows : when the French army marched on Cairo, after 
 the capture of Alexandria, the soldiers suffered cruelly from hunger 
 and thirst ; on the way they found nothing but abandoned villages ; 
 the wells had been filled up, and a most oppressive heat struck down 
 the bravest. Discouragement was general. They regretted France, 
 and cursed the presumed authors of that unfortunate expedition, who 
 had sent them into this frightful country, where they could neither, 
 they said, ' make their soup, nor get a drop of brandy.' Eecriminations 
 and invectives had full play. Since, as a matter of fact, gaiety and 
 joking are the base of the French character, and never lose their rights 
 even under the most critical circumstances, sallies and jests abounded. 
 The Commander-in-Chief, according to them, was a good fellow; he had 
 allowed the Directory, who had a spite against him, to make a fool of 
 him by transporting him into this country, which was not fit for a dog. 
 And as they halted everywhere, if any vestige of antiquity was to 
 be found, to excavate and make researches, they saddled the Egyptian 
 Commission with the original idea of the expedition, and avenged 
 themselves by calling the savants who composed it ' asses,' and the 
 asses 'savants.' They accused old General Caffarelli, a man as 
 courageous as he was learned, of having cajoled Bonaparte, and of 
 having brought him into this hornets' nest. ' He doesn't care a bit 
 which way it goes,' they said. ' He has one foot in France ' ; alluding 
 to the leg he lost on the Rhine." 
 
 They were at the door when the Doctor had concluded his explana- 
 tion, and sprang on their animals. 
 
 " None of your ' Ahs ! ' rascal," said Ondsime to his donkey boy. 
 ^' ' Monsieur de Lesseps ' does not require that to go along straight,
 
 A Fortune-teller.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF HASSAN. 209 
 
 and it worries me. That's true, it makes me nervous," he added 
 turning to Jacc^ues and Ke'radec, who were getting ready to start. 
 
 " And makes you lose the stirrups— and the rest I " 
 
 Hassan swore by the beard of the Prophet that he would not open 
 his mouth, and would only use his switch. 
 
 " Your switch ! Still less, you ugly brute ; leave us alone, my 
 ass and me. Limit yourself to following us, and do that, even, at a 
 certain distance." Then, settling himself in his saddle, he seized the 
 reins. 
 
 The cavalcade sets oat. Passing along the EsLekieh at a gentle 
 trot, they reach the Place Atal-el-Kadra, and take the Boulevard 
 Mahomet Ali, which ends at the Place Sultan Hassan. There they 
 xilight and approach a group of idlers. 
 
 At the corner of a doorway squatted an old negro. On the ground 
 were a leather bag, a scrawl, and a copper inkstand ; he was a wizard. 
 Upon the fine sand which he had taken from the bag and spread out 
 before him, a peasant woman had placed her flat hand ; she withdrew 
 it ; the soothsayer examined the imprint with apparent attention, and 
 scribbled some letters in Arabic on a scrap of pajjer, which he presented 
 to the woman. The latter gave him a piastre, took the square of 
 paper, carefully secured it, and withdrew. 
 
 They lend a deaf ear to the solicitations of this black Cagliostro, 
 and, proceeding towards the Mosque, ascend a staircase of a few steps, 
 and pass beneath the gigantic, vaulted, ogival gateway with corbels and 
 stalactites. It is surmounted by a frieze bearing an inscription in mag- 
 nificent Cufic characters, and a jjowerful cornice dominates the whole. 
 Then crossing a vestibule, and a dark corridor furnished with stone 
 benches, they reach a long room, where the attendants provide them 
 with straw sandals. When this is done they enter the courtyard, 
 paved with marble of all sorts of colours, and open to the elements. 
 
 At the sides are four gigantic bays, following the bold curves of 
 two enormous arches, which unite at an imposing height to support an 
 embattled wall. The largest is the entrance to the sanctuary. At 
 the end is the mihrab of difi'erent sorts of marble, ornamented with 
 graceful columns ; close at hand is the mimbar, and in the centre of 
 
 14
 
 210 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the hall the pulpit for the readers, the mastaba, of a rather elegant 
 aspect with its columns and pilasters. From the ceiling hangs an 
 
 admirably chiselled 
 chandelier of bronze, 
 as well as lamps and 
 ostrich eggs orna- 
 mented with , tufts 
 of silk. Vases of 
 coloured glass, each 
 of which is secured 
 by a light treble 
 chain to a long iron 
 bar reposing on iron 
 brackets fixed in the 
 masonry, form a 
 double line parallel 
 to the lateral walls, 
 along the top of 
 which runs a frieze, 
 a perfect arabesque 
 of lacework, where 
 verses of the Koran 
 are inscribed in 
 Cufic letters. 
 
 You enter the 
 room containing 
 Hassan's tomb by a 
 door on the right of 
 the mimbar. It is a 
 vast square apart- 
 ment covered by an 
 enormous cupola, 
 joined on the inside to the angles of the walls supporting it by a 
 corbel of stalactites ; sentences from the Koran are written on a frieze 
 decorating the walls above the marble which covers the lower part. 
 
 Entrance to the Jlo&qne of Hassan.
 
 NEGLECT OF THE AEAP.S. 
 
 211 
 
 The flags on which they walk are broken ; the slabs of marble 
 lining the sides are falling off; the mosaics are shifting from their 
 setting; the worm-eaten stalactites escape one by one from their 
 decayed sockets ; bits of wood which accumulations of dust have long 
 since covered with a uniform grey tint, effacing all trace of painting, 
 tumble down from old age or hang threatening above the heads of the 
 faithful ; birds build their nests there ; spiders sj)in their ,„ ^ 
 webs; bats lodge in the crevices; and streams ^-..tMi'ViiM .' 
 
 of light, coming through the dilapidated dome, 
 strike the wall witli their bright 
 rays, ruthlessly illuminating the 
 shameful wreck. 
 
 The fountain for ablutions in 
 the middle of the court is in the 
 same dreadful state. Its vast blue 
 sphere-shaped cupola, surmounted 
 by a crescent, is cracked 
 in places ; one still per- 
 ceives the traces of a 
 large zone, formerly 
 covered with Arabic 
 writing in gold ; it 
 stands on an octagonal 
 wall supported by slender columns 
 at the angles. Arabs perform their 
 ablutions here. 
 
 " What an admirable monument, Monsieur Keradec ! " said Jacques, 
 as soon as they were outside, casting a last look of admiration on the 
 tall and severe facade of the edifice ; " it is a perfect marvel of bold- 
 ness and elegance." 
 
 " It dates from the fine Arab period." 
 
 "Is it not related that Sultan Hassan had the hands of his 
 architect cut off, so as to prevent him erecting another monument of 
 such beauty anywhere else ? " 
 
 " Yes, that and a great many other things ; but I am much afraid 
 
 J'-y^ 
 
 Foiintiiin for ablutions.
 
 212 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 that yon accuse this poor Sultan Hassan wrongfully, for that story 
 about the architect is far from having been proved. What is blam- 
 able is the unpardonable neglect of the Arabs, who allow such works 
 to fall to ruin." 
 
 " Is this neglect general, or is this merely a particular instance 
 
 of it?" 
 
 " A particular instance ! It is the same throughout Egypt : men 
 and things, from the sea to the cataracts, from the Arabian to the 
 Libyan desert, suffer from this culpable neglect, from this fatal want of 
 
 Mosqne of Toulon n. 
 
 consideration, which, with the vandalism of tourists and the cupidity 
 of the inhabitants, ruins the country, and causes even the last vestiges 
 of its past glory to be mutilated or to disappear. But before visiting 
 the Citadel we shall have time to go as far as the Mosque of Touloun ; 
 it is five minutes from here ; you will then see that I do not ex- 
 aggerate the frightfully abandoned state in which these monuments 
 are left." 
 
 Taking to their donkeys again, they set out for the Mosque 
 standing between the canal and the Citadel. 
 
 They are hardly Inside, when a swarm of half-naked poor and crippled
 
 TnE MOSQUE OF TOULOUN. 213 
 
 people, to whom the sanctuary of the Mosque serves as a place of 
 refuge, surround them and pester them with demands for baksheesh. 
 They are horrible to look at, and are with difficulty got rid of. 
 
 In the middle of the courtyard rises the ablution fountain, with 
 the dome tumbling to pieces. On three sides of the court the naves, 
 with double rows of columns, surmounted with ogival arches, which 
 have been filled in, serve as a dwelling-house. On the fourth side the 
 porch numbers five rows of columns. This part of the edifice forms 
 the sanctuary, or the mosque proper. 
 
 Of the four minarets that flanked the four angles one only is 
 standing, and is much decayed. Square at the base, then cylindrical, 
 and finally octagonal, it is compassed by an exterior staircase half in 
 ruins, the upper part leading to the summit of the minaret being 
 impracticable. The sanctuary only is in a fairly good state of repair, 
 with its ogival arcades hollowed out between the arches ; but the 
 stucco coating the bricks is crumbling away, the Cufic inscriptions on 
 the friezes are falling in lumps ; the antique mosaics of the slender 
 marble columns of the mi/irab are wasting away; the incrustations in 
 ivory of the old walnut mimbar are leaving the worm-eaten wood ; the 
 ceilings, in carved palm wood, are cracking and rotting. There will 
 soon remain nothing of the beautiful light ogees, of the original 
 columns, of the elegant arabesques, and of the thousand delicate 
 ornaments of this mos([ue, founded a century before Cairo— of the 
 Gam'a of Ahmed Ibu El-Touloun, the chief of the Toulounides 
 dynasty. 
 
 " You probably know the legend connected with the building of the 
 only minaret of this mosque that remains standing ? " Keradec asked 
 Jacques. 
 
 " I don't know the first word of it." 
 
 " I will tell it you. Ahmed, who was of a serious disposition, was 
 one day holding a council, surrounded by the grand personages of his 
 Court and the leaders of his army. Seated at a table, he was plapng 
 thoughtlessly with a sheet of i)aper spread out before him. His 
 fingers folded and refolded it with apparent yet unconscious attention, 
 absorbed as he was in a fit of musing wliich, little by little, had seized
 
 214 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 on his whole being. When he recovered from it, and suddenly re- 
 turned to reality, he noticed astonishment displayed on all faces, and 
 could not help reddening at his jiassing distraction. As he was not 
 wanting in presence of mind, he wished to efface the impression he 
 had produced by transforming the childish act to which he had uncon- 
 sciously given way into one of profound thought. He examined the 
 paper once more, again modified the form he had accidentally given it, 
 and sent for the architect. ' That,' he said, handing him the sheet of 
 paper, ' is the form you will give to the minaret of my mosque.' " 
 
 " He was a man of resources, this Monsieur Ahmed," said Onesime. 
 
 " He had, moreover, astounding luck. Thus, historians of the day 
 relate that the entire Koran was engraved on the friezes of s^'camore 
 wood which ornamented the sides of the mosque ; and it appears that 
 this wood was none other than that which came from the planks of 
 Noah's Ark, the remains of which Ahmed had found on Mount 
 Ararat." 
 
 " Let the friezes look out, then I If ever Cook and Son's six 
 tourists hear of their Biblical origin, not one will escape them. Just 
 fancy, a piece of Xoah's Ark ! They will split them into pieces and 
 fill their leather bags with them, at the risk of causing the remainder 
 of the building to tumble down on their heads. But, between our- 
 selves, it was a wretched find, and since the Deluge must have been 
 pretty well worm-eaten I " 
 
 " This was only a commencement, Monsieur Onesime. He found 
 better than that. Thus, one day, when he was crossing the desert, 
 the horse of a slave thrust its hoof into a hole which suddenly 
 opened beneath its tread, stumbled and fell, while the rider was 
 thrown out of his saddle. Ahmed alighted, examined the broken 
 ground, and saw that the accident had been caused by the fortuitous 
 falling in of the arched roof of a cellar. He had the rubbish cleared 
 away, searched the interior, and found a treasure there of the estimated 
 value of a million dinars^'' 
 
 " Which would represent at the present time ?," 
 
 " About a million and a half francs." 
 
 " By Jove I You don't find that every day under a horse's hoof"
 
 THE MOSQUE OF TOULOUN. 215 
 
 " It was very common with bim, for he is credited with the dis- 
 covery of several other large treasures ; and it is only due to him to 
 say that he turned them to the best account, devoting them to build 
 his mosque, which was comi)leted in two years, impro\iug tlie standard 
 of the coinage, and assisting the poor. With this view he placed a 
 pharmacy near his mosque, where, once a week, by his order and at 
 his expense, medical men attended to the sick and assisted the 
 indigent." 
 
 " Those Sultans were, anyhow, men of heart and good taste," said 
 Onesime, " and that did no harm. They erected temples full of pretty 
 columns, with beautiful little ogees delightfully executed ; set up nice 
 minarets in daring positions, with ornamental balconies of open work, 
 like Malines lace ; they hollowed out in the courts of their mosques 
 coquettish springs, covered them with light domes and numbers of 
 pretty tiny columns, without mentioning tliose lovely niches for 
 prayers ; those adorable mihrabs, all in marble and alabaster ; those 
 deliciously carved mimhars^ with delicate incrustations of ivory ; those 
 beautiful mastabas ; those marvellously chiselled lamps ; those 
 ribbons of capricious arabesques tracing i)rayers on the walls. They 
 had taste, and, moreover, exquisite taste ! Charming and original 
 fancy ! And then it was put together in two or three years without an 
 effort. A few bricks, a little plaster, some beams, sundry columns 
 rifled here and there from some old Greek church out of fashion, 
 marble casing carried off from some ancient Egyptian temple, were 
 the materials. Pleasant labour, just sufficient to give the workmen an 
 appetite and extend their muscles— a species of hygienic g}-mnastics ; 
 that was all the trouble. A delicious jewel of a building and a happy 
 people, who come and pass the siesta there, thinking of Mahomet, with 
 their noses turned towards the Orient— that is the result obtained ! 
 And no expense, because the treasures they found amply covered the 
 architect's account ; at. least, it was so in Ahmed's case. Add to this 
 a gratuitous hospital for labourers in case of accidents, an office for 
 relief, and a dispensary for the poor. But it was high philanthropy, 
 pure ethics in action ! These Sultans were simply precursors of 
 3Iontvon ; wliereas tliose grand concnlcators, the Pharaohs, with their
 
 216 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 great stupid heaps of rubbish, their massive pyramids, their heavy 
 
 tombs, and their placid disdain for the lives of others, their Son 
 
 of a gun ! My blood boils at the mere thought of those brutes and 
 their boobies of subjects, whose clumsy productions absorb all your 
 admiration." 
 
 " If you hurt my Pharaohs," exclaimed Jacques, " look out for 
 your Sultans ! " 
 
 " Rest assured, Monsieur Coquillard, that we admire the mosques 
 as we admired the jiyramids." 
 
 " You might just as well admire a powerful draught-horse, harnessed 
 to an omnibus, as equal to a thoroughbred." 
 
 " Certainly, Monsieur Coquillard ; one is worth the other on the 
 same terms — they are two clifFerent kinds of beauty." 
 
 " Just," continued Jacques, " as a lovely brunette is equal to a pretty 
 blonde, a glass of amber ale to one of XXX stout, and an intelligent 
 French poodle to a good-natured Newfoundland. Only I prefer the 
 blonde, I drink stout, am glad to fondle the head of old Gyp, my 
 Newfoundland, and like the grand powerful manner of the Pharaohs 
 better than the refined and charming fancy of the Sultans. I admire 
 the robust work of the ancient Egyptians, grand, simple, imposing, 
 engraved with the cartouch of Cheops, Eameses, Sesostris, or others ; 
 and whether this brilliant, elegant, and fragile eifort of Arab art be 
 signed Touloun, Hassan, or Khalaoun, I consider it merely i3retty. 
 The long ribbon of paintings taken from life, covering the walls of the 
 tombs of the sons of Horus, setting forth so naively, so faithfully, their 
 mode of life, pleases me more than the twisted, flowery, and fatiguing 
 caligraphy of the letters of the Koran, scattered over the friezes of the 
 mosques. In a word, I prefer Osiris to Mahomet ; and if you cannot 
 feel all that is admirable, sublime, grand in the colossal work of 
 the Pharaohs, well ! my dear friend, it is because you have not the 
 sentiment of the beautiful, and there is an empty cavity in your 
 brain." 
 
 " An empty cavity in my brain ! " repeated Onesime, laying stress 
 on each word ; " that is too much ! " 
 
 This was the last drop of water that made the cup run over
 
 OEATOEICAL EXPLOSION. 217 
 
 Ondsime, the gentle Onesime, revolted against this persistent Pharaonic 
 infatuation, as he had revolted against the outrageous praises bestowed 
 on Cleopatra, as he had condemned the ridiculous eulogy addressed to 
 the pyramids. Onesime had, above all, a just mind, a straightforward 
 character, an honest heart ; he did not dally with his conscience, and 
 they had braved that conscience to his nose and to his beard I He was- 
 always impatient of ill-placed, unhealthy admiration of matters which 
 he termed, with sui)erb and deserved contempt, picturesque fancies and 
 ridiculous crazes, unworthy, he added, of troubling for a single instant 
 the trim of well-balanced minds. And he was well-balanced, he was ;. 
 he did not vibrate in space like that hare-brained Burgundian and that 
 old Armorican Druid, not he, Onesime Co(|uillard, of Paris, unique and 
 without a consort, like the phoenix, almost, less the plumage and 
 immortality. He wished, he, the rational being, the practical man, 
 the convinced partisan of the utile didci, to whip with the rod of 
 common sense, to scourge with the thongs of satire, those frightful 
 exaggerators, those admirers beyond reason ; he would, he, Onesime 
 Coquillard, he would castigare ridendo inores ! 
 
 Erect on his short, fat legs, he threw back his shoulders, also his 
 head ; that was his famous posture, that memorable attitude of grand 
 occasions, characteristic and inexj)ressible, which was assumed at the 
 outburst of his improvisation. It was the preface to his anger ! His 
 right hand, round and plump — the other was always in his trousers' 
 pocket when he was merely ironical — described a graceful, regular curve^ 
 in no way abrupt, the arm was extended horizontally, the fingers were 
 stiff, the palm of the hand turned towards the heavens, the thumb 
 raised. The position of the thumb was of great importance in his 
 oratorical gestures ; raised thus it expressed bitter irony ! The thumb 
 down — but one must not anticipate. By a simple efi'ort of his will, 
 the mocking mask of refined, sharp, biting irony all at once took the 
 place of the placid and good-natured aspect of his usual face ; and his 
 thick-lipped mouth, of a sinuous and well-formed outline, sarcastically 
 opened amidst the black bristles of his beard. 
 
 " Look here ! "—and his voice, sharp as a razor, betrayed by its^ 
 bitter, wild energy how vigorous were the bellows of his lungs—
 
 ^18 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 '• your EoTptians. those stone-hewers, were nothing more than living- 
 dead people, lunatics wlio began to scrajie the rock and dig their own 
 graves when they had barely come into the world ; they were the 
 Trappists of antiquity, didl sad fellows, passing their lives in worrying 
 themselves to death ; hypnotised by the dread of being badly buried, 
 regretting the nothingness from which they came, and hastening to 
 return there " 
 
 * if: * ti * * 
 
 And he continued for a long time thus, always ironical, without 
 fatigue, without anger, calm, severe ; then resumed, — 
 
 " They were a nation of moles ! " 
 
 " "Worshippers of moles, Monsieur Coquillard," rectified Keradec. 
 
 " That was worse still ! " answered Onesime, who was not to be 
 easily unseated ; " in worshipping moles, they worshipped themselves, 
 so strong was the love of the beast in them." 
 
 " They gave the mole divine honours," said Keradec, " because, 
 considering it blind, it personified, in their idea, darkness, which they 
 thought older than light." 
 
 " They were more blind than it was, that nation of moles, who, for 
 thousands of years, discovered no better way of passing their leisure 
 than in riddling their calcareous mountains with hypogei and in 
 making a lot of heaps with even sides, in the midst of their plains, 
 with the rubbish " 
 
 And he continued, led away by the vertiginous vortex of his superb 
 ■cerebration, until at length, intoxicated by his eloquence, which got 
 into his head like strong wine, maddened by the constant rattle of his 
 own words, the tumultuous multitude of which whirled round in his 
 ears in a formidable racket, stunned by the clatter of his phrases, at 
 the moment when he was about to suddenly soar to an infinite height, 
 he felt himself, all at once, bitten by the demon of anti-religious 
 hatred. He drew his left hand from his pocket with a jerk, rested it 
 proudly on his hip, and turned his right hand over with the thumb 
 down — pollice verso ! That terrible pollice verso indicated with him 
 that bitter irony would give way to cutting, implacable satire, branding
 
 ONESIME S POLLICE VERSO. 
 
 219 
 
 Pollire rer^o. 
 
 like a red-hot iron ; be was trausfi.c^iired ; his features were contracted, 
 his eyes flashed, and amidst the thunder of his phrases, the clang of 
 his words, the sonorous roll of his deafening 
 sentences, he fulminated an impetuous pero- 
 ration, terminating with this crushing apos- 
 trophe, in which he pulverised priests and 
 religions, which, with the cataclysm, were his 
 peculiar bugbears. 
 
 " And it is this old Egypt, living stupidly 
 with one foot in the tomb, stinking of death, 
 that in one of its granite coffins one day 
 whelped, in a superb litter, those radiant 
 virtues of humanity, wisdom, art, science ? 
 Never. This African troglodyte, in her long 
 association with the sombre spirit of Death, 
 felt in the end a monstrous desire for the 
 hideous lover, and in the terror of darkness conceived, in a horrible 
 union, the Hierophant — a monster I who killed her at his birth and 
 vomited on the world the bitterness of religions, those antagonistic 
 sisters devouring each other, wliom like a second Tyjihon he had be- 
 gotten with Night, his mother I " 
 
 And Onesime paused, inhaled a breath of air, and then, examining 
 from head to foot Jacques and Keradec, who were looking at him with 
 a sort of indulgent commiseration, he concluded with these words, 
 uttered in a calm, brief, well-modulated voice, — 
 
 " I have said, gentlemen. There I " 
 
 That " there " was pronounced in a clear, firm, imperious tone ; it 
 was superb, that " there " ; it smelt of gunpowder, shone like steel, 
 rang like bronze ; it fell like a blow from a mace, bang ! with the 
 grave and prolonged so and of a gigantic gong. No other than 
 Ondsime could have accentuated it with that decision, that air of 
 conviction, at once resolute and audacious, which made an impression 
 in spite of all ; he said so much in those five letters, that word of one 
 syllable ! It was one of those words that remain, one of those spark- 
 ling words that illuminate with their flashes of fire an epoch of history,
 
 220 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 and mark it witli au indelible stamp, like the 2fe?ie, Tekel, Peres of 
 Belshazzar, the Veni, vidi, vici of Cccsar ; and many otheTS —ve?'ba 
 non facta. But his was more laconic ; it was not three words, it 
 was not two, it was one word, a single one ! But such a word ! Short, 
 thickset, sturdy and stubborn, black and hairy like himself, terrifying 
 in its stupefying conciseness. 
 
 " There ! " And he had said it simj^ly, without fuss, in au easy- 
 going manner, as Louis XIY. must have said, " The State is me ! " 
 As NajDoleon III., between two cigarettes, had said, " The Empire is 
 Peace ! " As Tartariu of Tarascon had said, " Sword thrusts, Gentle- 
 men, sword thrusts, but uo pin thrusts ! " It was one of those words 
 kindred — but a better brought up relative — to that of Cambroune, 
 who also, on a momentous occasion, thus in five letters summed up, in 
 a manner at once brutal and sublime, the unbearable annoyance that 
 gained possession of him in presence of the crushing calamity of 
 Waterloo — that immense disaster in which the fortunes of Napoleon 
 were wrecked ! 
 
 Then Onesime, in a noble, serene, Olymjiian posture, in a posture 
 cast in bronze, Jupiter and Napoleon mixed together, crossed his 
 arms. With him — for with One'sime the slightest gesture signified 
 something, as in the old aerial telegraph — with him the arms crossed 
 were his anger sheathed, his justice reposing ; it was the apotheosis of 
 his victory, as Kneph was the personification of the goodness of Phtah, 
 Neith that of his wisdom. It was also his revenge for the cataclysm. 
 One saw in him the pride of accomplished duty, of vengeance satisfied, 
 and he enjoyed as a man that pleasure of the gods. While Keradec 
 smiled with wonder, mingled with a dash of irony, and Jacques con- 
 templated him with cheerful calmness, he continued in a brisk and 
 rather sharp tone, which showed a little spiteful malice, notwithstand- 
 ing his compressed dignity, — 
 
 " Well ! And then ? Even if you do look at me like that with an 
 air of pinch-him-without-laughing ! Well ! Yes, it was I, there ! It 
 was I who said that. I, Onesime Coquillard, of Paris, 2^?, Rue du 
 Faubourg Montmartre, on the entresol, the first door on the left at the 
 end of the corridor. Are vou satisfied ? "
 
 POLYANDKY AMONG THE ARABS. 221 
 
 " And you called me deicide I " 
 
 " Certainly, for you are so, in intention." 
 
 " It's an accusation of tendency that you are bringing against me 
 there." 
 
 " If you like. You deny God, because of your incapacity to under- 
 stand him ; his existence inconveniences you ; that Deus ignotus 
 irritates you — you are vexed because he will not be interviewed by you." 
 
 " Not at all ! But I do not care about making the acquaintance of 
 persons against their will, especially of the unknown ; we don't meet, 
 that's all : " 
 
 " You would perhaps like him to make advances to you ? " 
 
 "Politeness indicates that he should take the first step; his high 
 position permits of his doing so, commands him to do it even." 
 
 " I see there is a coldness between yon." 
 
 " But I say your intercourse with him does not seem to me to be 
 so very cordial, and the position between you aj^pears to me sufficiently 
 strained, if I judge by the way in which you arraign his ministers." 
 
 " His ministers ! Those hybrid creatures who disguise him with 
 every device, who have the audacity to represent him in their image 
 and to make a terrible and ridiculous idol of him, and, what is worse, a 
 stupid and cruel divinity, amusing himself in tormenting and destroy- 
 ing his own creatures, imposing on them the obligation of conforming 
 to the humiliating practice of a long tedious series of absurd rites to 
 deserve his good graces I " 
 
 " All the gods they manufacture, my dear Onesime, are cut on 
 the same stupid and bad pattern I Saturn also devoured his children," 
 
 " Saturn I But that Kronos, Saturn ; he belongs to the Egyptian 
 Pantheon, that ogre, that voracious god. I think he was one of the 
 three husbands of the goddess Athor." 
 
 " Precisely ! His two collaborators were Phtah and Thoth, of 
 whom the Greeks have made Yulcau and Hermes," answered the 
 Doctor. 
 
 " That's immoral enough." 
 
 '' Everything is permitted to the gods." 
 
 " Yes, but three men for one woman is "
 
 222 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 "Polyandry, neither more nor less. Besides, it is a custom 
 rather common among the Arabs," said Keradec. 
 
 " One woman is generally sufficient for a man's happiness." 
 
 " Or his misfortune ! " 
 
 " When one is clumsy." 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," interrupted Keradec, " we will take a turn 
 through the Citadel before dark, if you like ; it is five o'clock ; we 
 have an hour before us, let us profit by it." 
 
 The entrance to the Citadel. 
 
 They left their donkeys and donkey boys on the Place Roumeilieh, 
 which they soon reached, to enter the fortress. 
 
 " Here," said Keradec, " is the Chateau of Youssouf Salah-Edden, 
 the famous Saladin, built under the direction of Karagueuz, his first 
 Minister." 
 
 " That Karagueuz was a sort of cracked person," advanced 
 On^sime. 
 
 " That is what is said of the eunuch, although his acts do not 
 quite respond to the reputation he enjoys."
 
 THE CITADEL — JOSEPH S WELL. 223 
 
 They found themselves facing one of the entrances to the Citadel 
 called Bab-el-Azab, or Gate of the Mamelukes. 
 
 The gate, in pure Saracen style, with elliptic ogee, opens between 
 two massive towers, striped with broad liorizontal bands alternately 
 red and white. They enter, and follow the narrow crooked lane which 
 leads to the upper part of the stronghold. 
 
 "It was in this small defile," explained the Doctor, "that was 
 performed that terrible butchery of the Mamelukes, which at one 
 stroke destroyed the power of the Beys, and established that of 
 Mahomet Ali, who ordered the bloody drama." 
 
 '•' And not one of them escaped the massacre ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " Yes, one, Emin Bey, the Arabs relate ; his horse flew with a 
 prodigious bound over the parapet of the rampart. If Hassan, youi 
 donkey boy, were here, Monsieur Coquillard, he would show you, 
 without hesitation, the spot where the frightful leap was accomplished." 
 
 " Emin Bey's horse must have had wonderful legs," summed up 
 On^sime, measuring the height of the parapet with his eye. " And 
 Hassan would have tremendous cheek if he dared to affirm the thing 
 and show me the place where it occurred." 
 
 " But every one believes it here." 
 
 " So much the worse for every one." 
 
 They had reached the inner courtyard. After having stopped 
 for an instant before the old mosque, in the Byzantine style, of 
 Khalaoun, almost destroyed, and the cupola of which has fallen in, 
 they go towards Joseph's Well, which is close by. 
 
 " Do they make the sinking of it so ancient as the chaste Joseph 
 of the Bible ? " inquired Onesime. 
 
 " The legend does, but history affirms that it was Youssouf, the 
 Mameluke Joseph, who had this well sunk. Another version says 
 that the latter merely had it cleared of the sand with which it was 
 filled up, but is silent as to the name of the person who had it bored 
 in the first instance ; so you have the choice between the two Josephs, 
 the servant of Potiphar and the Youssouf of Saladin." 
 ' " Only a Pharaoh would be capable of such a fancy ; he must 
 have bored this pit to put a tomb there; and the Arabs, like
 
 224 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 jjractical people, transformed the mummy liole into a well, after having 
 cleared it of the sand." 
 
 " That is an hypothesis like another ; let us go and verify it, and 
 examine this celebrated well, which is assuredly very curious." 
 
 Ondsime approached the orifice, but firmly refused to take the 
 snail's path that leads to the bottom. 
 
 " I go down there ! " he exclaimed ; " and who will bring me up 
 again ? Not I, for sure I " 
 
 " Very well ! you will remain there. It appears there is a good 
 Arab fellow down below who sleeps there ; he will keep you company, 
 you who like the Arabs." 
 
 " Pardon ! the Saltans only." 
 
 " The depth is barely two hundred feet, Monsieur Coquillard." 
 
 " That is two hundred too many ; and besides, you see, I do not 
 care about wandering like that at the bottom of wells — it's unhealthy, 
 one catches colds there. Go on ! Do not stand on ceremony ; a 
 pleasant journey ! Amuse yourselves well ; I will await you here, 
 and light a cigar." He installs himself on a stone in the shade, while 
 Jacques and K^radec descend. 
 
 The spiral path on a gentle slope turns round the wall of the 
 well, which is provided with semicircular oi3enings ; about half-way 
 down a large landing, hollowed out of the massive rock, comprises a 
 stable for the bullocks and their guardian, a forage loft, and a large 
 reservoir. The well is covered over by a circular wooden trap on 
 a level with the landing ; a mechanism set in motion by oxen raises 
 the water and empties it into the reservoir, while another sakieh, 
 established at the top of the well, takes the water from this reservoir, 
 raises it to the orifice, and throws it into a trough, whence it runs 
 to the diff'erent quarters of the Citadel. 
 
 Ktiradec and Jacques were not long in reappearing. 
 
 " Well ! " inquired Onesime, " is it nice down there ? " 
 
 " Eather cool," answered Kdradec ; " but it's very interesting to 
 see. Let us hurry off and warm ourselves in the sun, and pay a 
 visit to the Mosque of Mahomet Ali, before the daylight quits us " ; 
 and they proceed there at a brisk pace.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF MAHOMET ALT. 225 
 
 They had hardly entered before One'sime was quite bewitched by 
 the luxury of the interior of the edifice. The sun, at that moment 
 streaming through its broad European windows, cast warm sliadows 
 on the walls, caught all the twistings and windings of its pillars, 
 gleamed on the alabaster columns, and formed great squares on the 
 ground, where the pattern of ex(|uisite colours of the Smyrna carpets 
 covering the floor shone out in admirable brightness. He was some- 
 what of the opinion of his two companions, who found the mimbar 
 too profusely gilded, the form of the windows heavy, the cliaudelier 
 suspended in the centre of the arch more pretentious than beautiful, 
 the mihrah all in alabaster very ordinary ; he thought, as they did, 
 that while the architect was about it he might have made the columns 
 entirely of alabaster, instead of making the base and lower part of 
 it, and painting the upper part in imitation. However, he did not go 
 to the length of regretting, with them, the destruction of Saladin's 
 Palace, on the site of which the Mosque is built. 
 
 But, in spite of all, he found himself affected l)y this luxury of 
 refined taste, by this relative modern comfort ; he basked in the 
 lukewarm atmosphere which enveloped him in a soft caress. His 
 footsteps, deafened by the thickness of the carpets, did not make 
 the least noise ; he observed with good-natured pity the faithful, 
 slowly inclining in the silent performance of their devotions ; he 
 followed their ceaseless genuflexions with a look of tenderness ; 
 he remembered, not without some emotion, with which was mingled 
 a pinch of jealousy, the delicious jiromises to true believers in 
 Mahomet's Paradise, and had vague thoughts of changing his helmet 
 for a turban ; he felt himself gently becoming a Mussulman. Little 
 by little, lost in his dream, his eyelids became heavy, the eyes closed, 
 first of all for long intervals, then completely. He advanced 
 mechanically ; the voices of Jacques and Ke'radec, chatting beside 
 him, now only reached his ears in a confused hum ; his head slightly 
 oscillated, and he was about to give way to the sweet and irresistible 
 torpor which was gaining possession of him, when Jacques all at 
 once seized him by the arm and abruptly pulled him, at the moment 
 when he was on the point of stumbling and tumbling on the back 
 
 15
 
 226 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 of a Mussulman devotee, absorbed in prayer, with his face towards 
 Mecca. 
 
 "Halt there! Help!" cried Onesime in a stentorian voice, 
 with wild eyes, his hands extended forward ; all at once dragged 
 from his dream by this abrupt jerk, and still under -the influence of 
 iiis hallucination, he thought himself suddenly attacked. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you unlucky devil ! " Jacques said to him 
 in a subdued tone. "Are you mad?" 
 
 " Oh ! It's you ! " he answered, looking at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes, it's me, of course ! Who on earth did you suppose it was ? 
 Are you ill ? What has taken possession of you ? " 
 
 " Why, you have," said Onesime, now well awake and recovering 
 all his presence of mind ; " you are still holding me ! " — and he looked 
 at Jacques, who had not yet let go of him, in a rather cunning way. 
 
 " You were asleep then on your feet ? " 
 
 " I would not swear to the contrary I It is so nice here ; and I think, 
 God forgive me, that I dreamt I was a Pasha, or something similar." 
 
 " With how many tails ? " 
 
 " They had not yet grown ; you awoke me too soon, or rather just 
 in time, for the Sultan had sent me the bow-string ; I was condemned 
 to strangle myself. You have saved my life. Thanks ! " 
 
 " Don't mention it. What is positive is that you were about to 
 crush this child of Mahomet, so busy in assuring his salvation. 
 I stopped you in time." 
 
 " It's all the fault of religions ! " 
 
 " Of religions ? " 
 
 " Yes ; if there were no religions there would not be places of 
 worship ; if there were no places of worship we should not be in this 
 one ; I should not have fallen asleep here, and you would not have 
 had to wake me with a start to prevent me from crushing one of my 
 fellow-beings ; it's very simple, as you see." 
 
 " What I see is that we should do well to bolt ; your unseemly 
 outcry has troubled the piety of the faithful ; they are looking at us 
 angrily ; let us get into the courtyard, and go and see that splendid 
 sunset."
 
 SUNSET. 229 
 
 " When I told you that all evil came from religions I " murmnred 
 Onesime, as they went away. 
 
 " You see," said the Doctor to Jacques, when, on reaching the 
 grand court surrounded by an alabaster colonnade, they could take 
 in the whole building at a single glance, " there is nothing remark- 
 able but the size, and the wealth of materials used in buildino- it 
 With its Byzantine cupolas, its two slender minarets with pointed 
 roofs, it is nothing but a rather successful imitation of the great 
 mosques of Constantinople." 
 
 " Whether it be a copy or not, it pleases me, this mosque ; it is 
 kept cleaner than the others," answered Onesime. 
 
 " And one can sleep upright in it," retorted Jacques. 
 
 " Where is the harm, after all ? " 
 
 " There is none when one has a friend at hand to prevent it." 
 
 " The discretion of the person who renders you a service doubles 
 the value of that service," said Onesime, senteutiously. 
 
 " And 1 am not discreet, because I am an honest man ; I do not 
 wish to double the importance of the obligations people may be under 
 to me by my discretion." 
 
 " Paradox on two legs without feathers, go on I " 
 
 At that moment they were ou the terrace : the view was unique, 
 fairy-like, with the splendid sunset. 
 
 At their feet sjjread out the city, immense ; in the near fore- 
 ground they distinctly perceived the mosque of Sultan Hassan ; that 
 of Touloun, with its strange minaret ; farther on the barracks in the 
 Square Karameidan ; then, in a dust of gold, in a luminous swarm, 
 rose an infinite confused mass of terraces, domes, cupolas, minarets ; 
 and, amidst all these, a few black lines indicating the network of 
 streets. The Esbekieh Garden made a green spot on this blond, 
 vaporous expanse, terminated by the bordering of European houses in 
 the wealthy Ismailieh quarter, ^vhich spread as far as Boulak. The 
 Nile shone like a silver blade in a green belt of trees ; and, in the 
 extreme background, standing out in the bluish, misty ground of the 
 desert, the great silhouettes, of a deeper blue, of the Pyramids. 
 
 The sun sank slowlv to the horizon. At one moment, before dis-
 
 230 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 appearing, there was a sort of prodigious dazzle of brightness, a species 
 of gigantic halo filling the sky, illuminating space ; and the city, all 
 streaming in light, became resplendent with endless scintillation 
 beneath this brilliant glowing avalanche of purple and gold. The Nile 
 glittered ; the fields suddenly became a more intense green ; for an 
 instant the minarets shone like needles of fire ; the cupolas sparkled, 
 the domes beamed in a general conflagration. Then the orb of fire dis- 
 ajipeared on the horizon, and instantly all was pale ; the sky turned 
 green, the streams of light died out ; the strong colours abruptly 
 became softer ; the gold and purple of a moment ago were trans- 
 formed into orange, violet, and then into blue tones ; the air suddenly 
 freshened, the shadows increased in intensity ; and soon, almost with- 
 out transition, all was lost in a great sombre tint, and night came ! 
 
 " Brrr ! " said One'sime, shivering and putting on his overcoat ; 
 "that is done rapidly here; the sun's in a hurry, he does not care 
 about eking the hours out with lanterns on the horizon, twilighting as 
 he does at home. He does not mince matters ; as soon as he has done 
 his work, ' Good-night, all ! ' " He bows to the ground and turns on 
 his heels ; then, addressing Jacques : " There, you're pleased now. 
 You've treated yourself to your sunset ! " 
 
 When they found their donkey boys again on the Place Roumeilieh 
 night was complete.
 
 The Step Pyramid. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Onesime's gallantry almost gets him into trouble ; Hassan saves his equilibrium. — 
 Among the palms of Bedrasheen. — Local silhouettes. — The Colossus of 
 Barneses II. — A chaos of ruins. — On^sime steals away. — Jacques and Keradec 
 go forward. — Sakarah. — A negro dance. — Round the town. — Picturesque 
 scenes. — Dealers in antiquities. — Meeting a saint. — In the desert. — The Step 
 Pyramid. — Onesime calls it a mischievous gossip. — The Mastaba of El- 
 Pharaoun. — The tomb of Ti. — Where one sees that the fellah was made for the 
 stick, and vice versa. — From the dweller in caves to him on the Boulevards. — 
 How we return to the age of polished stone. — Digressions on Egyptiau art. — 
 Description of the bas-reliefs of the tomb of Ti, and what One'sime thinks of 
 them. — Mariette's house. 
 
 ^' /^ EE U13, Jackass ! " It is One'sime who treats " Monsieur de 
 ^-^ Lesseps " with this excessive familiarity, and the ass, 
 notwithstanding his rider's weight, scampers away at full gallop along 
 the road leading to the railway station for Upper Egypt ; Hassan, as 
 gay as a lark, with his habouches in his hand, runs along behind 
 him ; Jacques and Keradec follow at a short distance. 
 
 Ondsime, fresh and nimble, radiant, in a good humour, smiles 
 complaisantly in the black thickness of his well-combed beard, shining, 
 perfumed, embalming the air with subtle odours. From the height of 
 his beautiful red leather saddle he gives himself a lordly bearing, 
 holding the reins high, joyfully drumming with his elbows, which rise 
 
 231
 
 232 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 and fall ou his sides with the regularity of a pendulum. He makes 
 his switch double round the thighs of his donkey, who is quite 
 astonished at a behaviour so inordinate, and so completely foreign to 
 the usual habits of the person riding him. 
 
 Making a frightful abuse of the only three Arabic words that he 
 knows, chimalan (to the left), yaminan (to the right), dogri (straight 
 on), he vociferates them constantly and absolutely without purpose 
 in a tremendously resonant voice, and disdainfully casts a jjroud 
 glance on the passers-by. The latter stop and gaze with curious 
 astonishment at this fat, chubby-cheeked individual, provided with a 
 white helmet and blue spectacles, sheltered by a gigantic parasol, and 
 whose jovial face forms a strange contrast to his conquering airs ; then 
 they smile, follow him for a few moments with their eyes, and continue 
 on their way. Urchins, less polite, mock him, and in spite of blows 
 from Hassan's courbash address somewhat uncomely epithets to him. 
 
 One'sime's exaggerated confidence in the stability of his equilibrium, 
 which is all the more compromised by the stiffness of his attitude, 
 plays him a nasty trick : at the corner of a street, agreeably tickled 
 in his self-esteem by the killing glance that a slightly buxom and 
 decidedly Levantine housewife casts at him as she passes along, he 
 wishes to engage in a contest of gallantry, and turning round back- 
 wards he sends a fascinating kiss with a most graceful curve of the 
 arm. But, alas ! forgetting to warn " Monsieur de Lesseps," who 
 bravely continues his gallop, of his intention, he spins round in his 
 saddle, loses his stirrups, and is about to make a plunge into the 
 middle of the road, when Hassan, who was watching the game out 
 of the corner of his eye, and had foreseen the conclusion, catches 
 him in the middle of his parabola, supports him in his arms, and re- 
 equilibriates him in the saddle, without either him or his animal 
 stopping for a second. 
 
 Onesime perceives himself, in the twinkling of an eye, fall, rise 
 again, gain the saddle, and continue his furious gallop. It is a regular 
 juggler's play. He is bewildered, and at the bottom a little ashamed. 
 Hassan rises in his esteem ; however, he does not cancel his pro- 
 hibition in regard to the " Ah ! " and continues to retain tlie stick.
 
 AMONG THE TALMS OF BEDRASHEEN. 
 
 233 
 
 " By Jove ! I escaped it beautifully, thanks to Hassan," he 
 remarks to Jacques, who has rejoined him and gallops at his side. 
 " I almost fell " ; and he pronounces those words with comic despair, 
 which shows that his vanity has been severely wounded by this slur 
 on his recent equestrian pretensions. 
 
 " Bah ! Louis XIY. was once almost obliged to wait," said 
 Jacques to console him. 
 
 " Yes, but he did not run the risk of breaking his spine 
 whereas I " 
 
 " You — you are Onesime Coquillard, you are not Louis XIY." 
 
 " That's possible, but I care as much about my skin as he probably 
 did about his, I suppose." 
 
 " He particularly ! who had a double stomach." 
 
 " A double stomach ! " 
 
 " That excites your envy ? that double stomach of a crowned head ? " 
 
 "I own that, in case of need, I would have used it as well as 
 he did, and without the least trouble; a spare stomach is not to 
 be disdained," he con- 
 cluded, as the cavalcade 
 burst into the railway 
 station at full speed. 
 
 They jump into the 
 train, the donkey boys 
 install themselves in a 
 cattle-truck with their 
 animals, and twenty 
 minutes afterwards 
 they are at Bedrasheen, 
 a large village, full of 
 shade and freshness, 
 between the Nile and a 
 forest of palm trees. 
 
 They drag the don- 
 keys out of the truck ; A.roveufpalu, t.ec. 
 
 the railway journey has made them lively. " De Lesseps " prances,
 
 234 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 fi 
 
 " Gambetta " is restive, '' Telegraph " vigorously scrapes the ground ; 
 Hassan, Ahmed, Abdallah hold their respective animals with difficulty, 
 
 while their riders get astride of them. 
 
 Onesime settles himself to his best 
 on the backbone of " De Lesseps," whose 
 l)etulance makes him feel rather anxious ; 
 Jacques rises in the saddle, and gently 
 caresses " Gambetta " with his hand ; 
 Keradec takes tbe lead, seated on " Tele- 
 graph." 
 
 The caravan advances at a slow trot 
 along the road leading through a superb 
 grove of palm trees. They grow 
 thick beneath this blue sky, bury- 
 ing their roots in a fertile silt, a 
 thick sheet of earth extended over 
 those numberless generations of 
 men who for more than six thousand 
 years lived in the city of Menes. 
 
 On their left the ground is 
 strewn with bricks, broken rem- 
 nants of pottery, pieces of statues ; 
 bits of sculpture, stumps of columns 
 lie here and there, with blocks of 
 '■ granite covered with half-effaced 
 
 hieroglyphics. To the right palm 
 trees extend as far as the eye can see, 
 bending beneath the force of the wind. 
 
 A swarm of little black creatures, half- 
 naked brats, with squeaky voices, as nimble 
 as squirrels, follow them, laughing, chirping 
 in a shrill treble, incessantly extending their 
 little monkey paws, making their throats sore with their demands for 
 " baksisse." 
 
 If the party stops for an instant before some interesting lump of 
 
 Arab iDeggars.
 
 LOCAL SILHOUETTES. 
 
 235 
 
 cornice, or fragment of a stela, the frightened boys fly away, pushing 
 each other about, and, when once at a distance, continue their 
 impudent litany in a more piercing tone than over. They are like a 
 flight of sparrows sporting in the sun, cleaning themselves in the dust. 
 
 Under the trees the light plays with the shadows, and produces 
 unexpected effects, sometimes that of a powerful enhanced coloration, 
 rendered deeper still by the opposition of shades of vigorously de- 
 termined violet-black ; sometimes 
 of a softness, a harmony, a charm 
 that are exquisite. 
 
 At the top of a palm tree, a 
 fellah, his feet resting against the 
 trunk, secured round the loins by 
 a strap that encircles the tree, 
 gathers well- clothed branches of 
 dates in a kouffa, while another, 
 suspended in the same way, makes 
 a female palm tree fruitful. 
 
 Beside the road, his feet buried 
 in the dust, an old fellah clasps 
 a distaff ; his shadow in the strong 
 light falls hard and crisp on the 
 wall at his back ; his naked skull 
 shines in the sun like a mirror ; 
 his features are drawn ; his skin, 
 
 strewn with tufts of white hair, resembles an old parchment. It is 
 stretched so tightly on his bones that, in places, it seems as if it would 
 burst. He mumbles a few words in a hollow voice as he sees them 
 pass, while his long, thin, knotty fingers turn the spindle with a 
 febrile movement. His dull eye stares vaguely into space. Death 
 must have forgotten him. 
 
 And here is a handsome dark girl, a young peasant woman, her 
 arms encircled with copper bracelets, draped in her blue gown, with 
 a, gotdah on the head. She veils a corner of her face, and as you pass 
 you notice the flame of her eyes, the pearly whiteness of lier teeth. 
 
 Fellah gathering dates
 
 236 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 <^^ 
 
 From time to time green fields and fellaheen at work appear 
 through an opening. On all sides are pigeons in innumerable 
 quantities. 
 
 The air is admirably pure ; Onesime assumes a grave and majestic 
 air on his donkey, with the negligence of a Pasha, hardly listening 
 to Jacques and K^radec, who talk without stopping. They proceed 
 slowly, quite impregnated with this freshness of the landscape. 
 
 In a i)it beside the road lies a heap, without 
 form at first sight ; they stop, descend to the 
 bottom of the hole ; it is the Colossus of 
 Eameses II., resting with the face to the earth. 
 At close quarters the features of the Pharaoh 
 are distinguished with difficulty. Every year the 
 Nile comes and kisses the face of the " beloved 
 son of Ammon " with its fertilising wave. Each 
 year he sinks deeper and deeper in the coating* 
 of silt deposited by the inundation, and before 
 long, if England, to whom he belongs, does not 
 have him removed, or at all events set upright, 
 he will disappear as have disappeared all the 
 monuments of Memphis. 
 
 A little farther on, in a square of ground 
 surrounded by a fence, are a few remains dis- 
 covered by Mariette, which are waiting to be 
 conveyed to some museum. 
 
 From time to time a mass of bare granite 
 protrudes through the earth, resembling the back 
 of a jiachydermis buried in the mud ; it is the 
 Arab woman returning from shouldcr Or head of a Colossus about to dis- 
 
 drawing water. 
 
 appear. 
 
 To the left of the road it is always the same : ground turned 
 topsy-turvy, gaping holes, heaps of rubbish, sprinkled with fragments 
 of pottery, crushed bricks, broken shafts of columns, miserable 
 remains of the splendid city. 
 
 Leaving the road they adventure across this chaos of complete
 
 A CHAOS OF EUINS. 237 
 
 demolition. Tlie air is warm, the reverberation of the suu on the 
 ruins is insupportable. 
 
 The donkeys stumble, the rubbish rolls away noisily beneath their 
 tread, the bricks are chipped, the pottery is broken up smaller. 
 Onesime has almost fallen off his steed into a hole, the edge of 
 which gave way with a clatter on his imprudently approaching too 
 close to it : he turns round and regains the road. 
 
 The Doctor and Jacques continue crossing these heaps of ruins, 
 climbing the mounds, descending the slopes, and soon reach a hillock 
 sufficiently lofty to command the entire plain. 
 
 To their right, on the other side of the palm trees, the Nile is 
 resplendent in the sun, dotted with dahabiehs with white sails ; to the 
 left, beyond the cultivated fields, standing out against the palm trees 
 in the foreground, expands the plateau of the Libyan desert, with naked, 
 sterile flanks of a reddish yellow, a sort of calcareous wall running 
 parallel with the river, forming a barrier, so to say, to the west, 
 all bristling with pyramids : those of Ghizeh quite to the north on 
 the horizon, and, more to the south, those of Abou Seir; then, as they 
 draw nearer, seated between his two mutilated sisters, the Step Pvramid 
 of the " Black Bull," whose imposing silhouette dominates with 
 sombre majesty over all this sadness scorched by the sun ; behind 
 these the group of mutilated pyramids of Dashour forms, to the south, 
 the limit of this immense city of the dead, slumbering in the silence 
 of the desert. Between the Libyan chain and the Nile extends the 
 abode of the living. 
 
 After a prolonged contemplation, Jacques and the Doctor regain 
 the road as well as they are able. Onesime, who had gone ofi" to 
 <iuietly smoke a cigar and rest in the shade of the palm trees, remounts 
 his ass, laughs a little at the two friends about their love for broken 
 pots, and they continue trotting gaily along the road that takes them 
 to Sakarah. 
 
 Near the walls, before a sort of low coffee-house, are some wooden 
 posts supporting a roof made of a few planks, on which branches of 
 sorghum, palm-fibre, old cages, broken jars have been thrown, and here 
 a gathering has formed. Fellaheen sitting down are taking their
 
 238 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 coffee ; a youug peasant woman, a Bedonin perched on his camel^ 
 two or three wretches drunk with raki or hashish, applaud with noisy 
 laughter the foul contortions of a vile buffoon. The latter, a negro 
 covered with tinsel, necklaces, bracelets, dances, imitating, in a way 
 that leaves little room for doubt, the movements, attitudes, and smiles 
 of an almeh. The sight is revolting. 
 
 At the gate of the village a pack of lean, hoarse dogs, with bristly 
 yellow hair, receive them with deafening yelps. The blows that the 
 
 donkey boys generously distribute to them 
 increase the tumult. Onesime trembles for 
 his calves. 
 
 Instead of entering the place they skirt 
 the outer walls of its ramparts, which 
 are very high and of a bright whiteness. 
 Picturesque groups are camped along them. 
 Here is a blacksmith, shining with 
 sweat, with his apron of buffalo hide, his 
 head covered with a red skull-cap, black 
 with filth and smoke ; he beats a bar of 
 red iron on a very small anvil let in across 
 the unbarked trunk of a tree, while a hectic 
 urchin seems to be playing a toneless ac- 
 cordion, as he sets in motion the primitive 
 bellows, which stimulates a meagre fire 
 covered with cow-dung dried in the sun. 
 Here a family of unfortunates in rags has established its dwelling- 
 place. Squatting on a heap of broken straw, whicli they share with 
 three mangy dogs and a donkey covered with raw sores, they mutually 
 free themselves of the vermin which devours them ; when the fingers 
 are insufficient, they bite freely with their teeth, just like their four- 
 footed guests. 
 
 The three friends pass at a respectful distance from the group. 
 Farther on is a boat on the stocks : Arabs are calking it ; women 
 beside them are mending the sails, torn in shreds. 
 
 Here is an old, grey-bearded weaver ; with a well-applied blow 
 
 street at Sakarah.
 
 
 Negro Dancers.
 
 PICTUEESQUE SCENES. 
 
 241 
 
 from the back of his hand, he chastises the cariosity of a young fellah, 
 his sou or his assistant, who has so far forgotten himself as to look 
 at the roumis instead of turning the wheel. 
 
 A knife-grinder with his great toe sets in motion his mill-stone, 
 which is supported by two shafts inclined against a buttress ; he is 
 solidly built ; his face is wan, and his look deceitful. 
 
 At each step are pictures full of originality and local colouring. 
 
 Near one of the entrances to the village, in a square shaded by a 
 tamarisk, a score of natives are basking in the sun like lizards, seated 
 or lying on a little low wall enclosing a meadow where a cow guarded 
 
 The tomb of the Sheikh. 
 
 by an old woman browses : at the appearance of the " Nazarenes " 
 they rise, look at them maliciously, and exchange some words with the 
 donkey boys. On the other side of the square, a great sycamore covers 
 with its shade the cupola of an Arab chapel, the tomb of a revered 
 Sheikh ; the cemetery is close by, and isolated tombs, built of clay 
 mixed with straw, and whitewashed, rise around the tree and extend 
 as far as the road. 
 
 Some of the Arabs have approached : from dirty check-patterned 
 handkerchiefs hidden beneath their burnouses they draw out 
 " antiques," the masks of mummies, beetles, divinities in bronze ; they 
 do so with some hesitation at first, the sale of these antiquities being 
 strictly prohibited ; then, becoming bolder little by little, casting aside 
 
 16
 
 242 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 all reserve, they literally 
 who remembers his mishap 
 misses them with voice and 
 
 assail the travellers. Onesime, 
 with the hand of Onserkeres, dis- 
 gesture ; all his Arabic vocabulary 
 is brought into 
 play: " Emshi ! " 
 (be off) ; "Yal- 
 lah!" (quickly); 
 the gesture pro- 
 duces no effect, 
 his Arabic makes 
 them laugh, and 
 " A n t i q u s ! " 
 "Baksheesh, 
 ketir ! " tickle his 
 ears more than 
 ever with lament- 
 able recrudescence 
 of tone. 
 
 A few surly 
 curs show their 
 teeth, and give a 
 hoarse bark. 
 
 A saint in rags, 
 bearing a standard 
 in tatters, casts a 
 terrible glance at 
 them as he passes, 
 which checks the 
 smile that his 
 peculiar appear- 
 ance had brought 
 to Onesime's 
 countenance. 
 
 "The ugly brute," he 
 murmurs, approaching
 
 MEETING A SAINT. 243 
 
 Jacques. " There's a fellow that I would not care to meet at night at 
 the corner of a wood. What a disgusting creature ! " 
 
 " You speak of saints in a very disrespectful way." 
 
 " That a saint ! That dirty beast ? " 
 
 " Yes, a saint ! See what respect they have for him I Our donkey 
 boys kissed his hand as they passed ; the other Arabs do the same ; 
 others devoutly put the hem of his filthy rags to their lips." 
 
 " Pouah ! Are they not sick ? " 
 
 " Bah ! We also have our saints preserved in devotion and filth ; 
 Saint Benoit Labre, who lived on a dnngheap, was not wanting in 
 admirers. His exemplary dirtiness procured him canonisation ; he 
 picked his halo up out of dirt." 
 
 " After all, every one takes his comfort where he finds it ; but, all 
 the same, Mr. Saint has a bad eye. When he stared me out of 
 countenance I felt cold all down the back." 
 
 Keradec does not trouble about the saint; he is eagerly bargaining 
 for a pretty bronze statuette of the goddess Sacht. 
 
 Reaching the border of the desert, the Arabs relieve them of their 
 presence ; only the owner of the goddess insists on selling it to the 
 Doctor. He pesters him with his offers ; his hand on the donkey's 
 back, measuring his step with the pace of the animal, he pulls 
 Keradec at every instant by the sleeve, thrusting the statuette 
 between his hands, taking it back, giving it him again. He perspires 
 in great drops, displays a volubility that would be exasperating to 
 any one but the Doctor, whom this tide of words leaves absolutely 
 indifferent. 
 
 The heat has become suffocating. The reverberation of the sun on 
 the ground, in the march through these waves of sand and multitude 
 of pieces of rock, is quite distressing. Every now and then they 
 perceive the summit of the Step Pyramid peep up. Oue'sime has not 
 even the strength to complain ; he does nothing but blow and mop 
 himself. Jacques is in a hurry to arrive. Keradec, as dry as a 
 mummy, will not budge from the price of five francs that he offers for 
 the bronze. When they reach the foot of the Step Pyramid the bargain 
 is not vet concluded. Onesime is stewed in his own juice ; Jac([ues is
 
 244 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 half roasted. They stop in the shadow thrown by the monument ; men 
 and beasts rest, and Keradec ends by purchasing Dame Sacht. 
 
 After a collation that was too slight for their famished appetites, 
 Ahmed serves coffee. One'sime, comforted and dried, finds his good 
 humour again ; and all three set out to make the tour of the pyramid. 
 
 " But, I say, how do you enter that box ? " inquires One'sime, who, 
 returning to the point of departure, has not noticed the least trace of 
 an opening. 
 
 "You don't enter it, Monsieur On^sime, or rather you enter no 
 more, since a recent slip has blocked up the entrance." 
 
 
 ' 
 
 ''^^'^M%' 
 
 
 The Step Pyramid. 
 
 '' And you must be distressed, my dear Doctor, at this accident, 
 which prevents you from investigating the inside of this good pyramid, 
 from searching its entrails, and, like Cuvier, who reproduced from a 
 collar-bone the figure of a race that had disappeared, from recon- 
 structing from a calcinated thigh-bone or a bit of papyrus a theory 
 •demolishing that of a colleague. 
 
 " She was a clever person, this Ko-Kome, as you call her, who 
 prudently avoided your indiscreet investigations. Yau are so enter- 
 prising, you men of learning, that she must have felt alarmed in her 
 sense of modesty. You afiirm with such charming looseness things
 
 THE STEP PmAMID. 245 
 
 that your condisciples contradict with such perfect ease, that to put an 
 end to all reports, all interviews, the good dowager, jealous of her 
 reputation, simply shut the door in your face." 
 
 " After having left it open sufficiently long to permit of its being 
 inspected in the remotest corners." 
 
 '' In those that she chose to let you see. Because you know some 
 parts of her person, you must not conclude that you know the whole 
 of it. I would wager that the sly dame has masked the entrances 
 to one or two small trenches. This, they say, is the most aged of the 
 pyramids ; it must be the most cunning, and heaven knows what this 
 contemporary of j^rimitive times could relate to us if it would." 
 
 " Until it makes up its mind, and this Libyan Phryne casts away 
 her last veils, this is what we know of it. It is, as you said, the oldest 
 pyramid in Egypt, the most ancient monument on the earth. Its name 
 is Ko-Kome, according to the hieroglyphic Ka-Kem, the ' black bull.' 
 It dates from the first Thinite dynasty ; it is thought that it was built by 
 Ounephes; a passage of Manetho appears to confirm that idea. On the 
 other hand, Mariette seems to be of the opinion that beneath this pyramid 
 is the most ancient tomb of the Apis, bulls' bones having been found 
 there in large quantities. Finally, the presence of several mummies 
 that are not royal indicates that at one time it was used as a sepulchre 
 for private people — for the high and mighty of the Court, no doubt." 
 
 " Fie I When one has had the honour of receinng the sacred 
 remains of a Pharaoh or an Apis, to lower oneself to the point of 
 protecting any kind of corpse, of no matter whom, is derogatory for a 
 jjyramid that respects itself ! " 
 
 " Excuse it, Monsieur Onesime. It is the first time ; it has not 
 had the example of the others to guide it. And then it has so 
 many peculiarities that distinguish it from them. First of all, it is 
 not set according to the cardinal points. Then its base is rectangular, 
 and not square ; one of the entrances is on the south ; it is built in 
 five floors. All this gives it an aj)pearance apart, well defined." 
 
 " And what is the arrangement inside ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " About the centre of the pyramid, on a level with its base, opens 
 a large well descending to a great depth under ground, as far as the
 
 246 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 room of the sarcophagus, the residence of the Pharaoh or of the Apis. 
 At this well terminate a number of corridors running in every direc- 
 tion. Four rooms and several niches exist besides that of the tomb. 
 Sarcophagi, mummies, ox-bones, show what they were used for. 
 Two of these rooms had the sides lined with a sort of mosaic of green- 
 glazed tiles incrusted on a backing of stucco, and the ceilings ornamented 
 with stars on a blue ground. On the floor lay vases of alabaster, 
 marble, pieces of pottery, a skull, and gilded soles of feet. These 
 objects, collected to be sent to a museum in Europe, met with the 
 same fate as the sarcophagus of Mycerinus, which went to the bottom 
 with the vessel that carried it. 
 
 " As to the sacred lake of which the Greek writers speak, the green 
 fields that they place between the jjyramid and the Libyan desert, 
 where rose the temple of Hecate, where one saw the famous statue 
 of Justice without a head, the gates of Cocytus and of Truth, and a 
 number of other edifices, there is not the slightest vestige. 
 
 " Must we regret that there remains nothing of such a bewitching 
 spot, or should we consider this luxuriant description a fresh proof of 
 the exuberant imagination of the Hellenes ? I leave to others the task 
 of settling the question." 
 
 " They are to be heard with caution then, these Greeks whom you 
 so greatly admire. Doctor ? " said Ondsime ; " for you, in the face of 
 such a precise afiirmation of their manuscripts, you, the man of 
 h}-pothesis, not to risk one on the existence of this Eden replaced by 
 an ocean of sand. Decidedly the Greeks were nothing but frightful 
 babblers." 
 
 " Yes, but they babbled so wittily that one almost pardons them 
 their freedom in regard to truth. Tliere are so many people who say 
 true things so stupidly that they make themselves ridiculous." 
 
 " If our learned man in • us ' of the German universities were here 
 he could take that for himself. Wasn't the compilation that he made 
 us swallow terribly indigestible ? " 
 
 '' But what is that mass of ruins over there ? Is it a pyramid 
 fallen in. Monsieur K^radec ? " 
 
 " It is the mastaba of El-Pharaoun, the throne of Pharaoh, an
 
 THE MASTABA OF EL-PHARAOUN. 247 
 
 unfinished pyramid. It is little better than a monnd of ruins. It is 
 necessary to guess that there has been a monument there. The 
 rectangular base is correctly set towards the East. Marietta was the 
 first to penetrate within it. It contained a royal sepulchre, that of 
 King Ounas of the fifth dynasty." 
 
 They get on the donkeys again. Onesime grumbles, and with 
 difficulty avoids falling off his ass, which stumbles and slips at each 
 step. Hassan laughs on the sly at the sight of the despairing efforts 
 of his master, and does not lose sight of him, in order, in case of need, 
 to rectify too exaggerated a deviation from a vertical position. 
 
 Passing before the enormous mass, Jacques calls the Doctor's 
 attention to the rubbish strewn on the 2:rouud. 
 
 The Mastaba of El-Phamoun. 
 
 "The top is also covered ; that, coupled with some blocks in 
 position, might be considered sufficient to show that the pyramid had 
 been completed, and that the upper part had fallen in." 
 
 In a quarter of an hour they reach the tomb of Ti. Leaving their 
 asses, to the great relief of Onesime, delighted to stretch his legs a bit, 
 they descend the path traced in the sand on a gentle slope, which 
 takes them to the entrance of the mausoleum. On the pillars of the 
 doorway stands out the figure, engraved in relief, of Ti, leaning on 
 his stick of command ; inscriptions give his name and titles. 
 
 " We shall find on these walls," said Keradec, " all the details of 
 his words and deeds." 
 
 " But these people, then, have always the stick in the hand ? " 
 asks Onesime.
 
 248 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Yes," answers Jacques, " aud, yon see, nothing changes in the main 
 
 r^. MO 
 
 The dance of the stick. 
 
 in the valley of the Nile. The proceeding does not vary, if the j^eople 
 are different. Pharaohs, Hyksos, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs,
 
 THE TOMB OF TI. 249 
 
 Mamelukes, French — all have flogged the fellah. He has always beut 
 the spine ; yon wonld say that his back was made for the stick, and 
 TAce versa ; that there is an agreement between the two jmrties. 
 Under the Pharaohs they even kept the feast of the scourge, and the 
 stick dance of the present day is but a souvenir of that festival. The 
 sons of Osiris have got accustomed to it, and are no sadder for that. 
 Habit becomes a second nature, by atavism especially." 
 
 " Flogged and satisfied, and perhaps something else also, as in the 
 story of La Fontaine. A strange people all the same I " 
 
 " Bah ! The stick is somewhat the master in all countries," 
 continued Jacques. "The policemen knock Jolin Bull's head about^ 
 
 Tomb of Ti. 
 
 in England, when he is refractory, and Bobby has neither a tender 
 heart nor tender hands ; Brother Jonathan in America does likewise ; 
 the Prussian officers break their canes over the heads of their sub- 
 ordinates, they are so thick I Austria copies Germany. In Russia they 
 have the knout ; it is the courbash of the North." 
 
 " And in France ? " 
 
 " In France only marshals receive the stick or baton, and if an 
 entire lifetime, of which the years are marked 1)y brilliant actions, can 
 make them worthy of such an honour, faith I they have not had it 
 bestowed on them for nothing." 
 
 " Let us go now to the tomb of Ti, and see what is said of this- 
 original individual."
 
 250 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " He will liiinself give iis all the information, Monsieur On^sime." 
 "Himself?" 
 
 " At least, his scribes have taken the precaution of doing it for 
 him. You see all this series of bas-reliefs ; it is a correct passport, 
 a biography on stone, and with illustrations ! The entire life of 
 
 the man is written there. 
 
 " He commences by telling us that he 
 has served under three Pharaohs, that he 
 was their intimate, secret adviser, chief of 
 the writings, and, moreover, invested with 
 a high sacerdotal dignity, that of com- 
 mander of the prophets." 
 
 " Is that all ? He was a little bit of 
 an accumulator, this gentleman." 
 
 " He was married to a Princess of 
 royal blood, Nefer-Hotep ; he terms her 
 ' darling wife,' 'palm of love for her hus- 
 band.'" 
 
 " How gallant they were, those Egyp- 
 tian monsters ! Why not call her a 
 sugar-plum, a lollipop ? But these com- 
 mencements of centuries were very similar 
 to our ends of centuries ; it's just like our 
 ' souvenirs and regrets ' of Pere Lachaise." 
 " Man is always man, my dear On^- 
 sime : a composition of some middling 
 virtues, acquired with difficulty, and 
 clumsily plastered on our individuality, 
 and of a host of solid vices inherent in our nature. 
 
 " Virtue is an object of luxury, taxable like dogs ; it is a rare 
 flower, delicate, fragile — a greenhouse plant that grows slowly, requires 
 a great deal of care, and which the least draught may kill. They 
 endeavour in vain to acclimatise it in man. It vegetates, languishes, 
 and dies. 
 
 '' Vice possesses a vitality that is hard ; it is a vivacious and 
 
 statue of Ti.
 
 HOW WE RETURN TO THE AGE OF POLISHED STONE. 251 
 
 resisting plant. Born with man, it grows vigoronsly and in all 
 latitudes, like the Jew, and is so deeply rooted in us that it will never 
 he torn out. 
 
 " Between the dweller in caves of pre-historic times, and Jiim who 
 lives on the Boulevards at the present day, the man of Cro-magnon 
 and him of Montmartre, there is as much difference as between a bear's 
 skin and an overcoat, a flint axe and a repeating rifle — that is all ! 
 The same goods under another flag. Instincts and appetites have not 
 varied. The law of the strongest is still the law of the human 
 species, one half of which is always seeking to destroy the other. 
 The only variation is that we do not devour oar prisoners. It was the 
 excuse of our cannibal ancestors that they fought to fill their larders, 
 whereas we fight for the sake of fighting, stupidly ; and after the 
 victory, we do not know what to do with our laurels ; we cannot even 
 make a sauce of them, to serve up with the vanquished." 
 
 " That's true, and we return to our point of departure, in spite of 
 our discoveries, our progress of all sorts, and what we term our 
 civilisation. Monsieur Onesime." 
 
 " What ! to the age of stone implements, to the man of Solutr^, 
 the contemporary of the mammoth and the great bear ! " 
 
 " Perhaps ! Man's head becomes smaller every day, his muscles 
 and chest enlarge ; animal strength develops at the expense of the 
 brain, which diminishes in proportion. They wanted to load it too 
 much ; it has acted like the camel, it refuses to advance.'' 
 
 " Then ? " 
 
 " Then we reverse the machine. Nature turns us out to grass 
 again. She had bestowed on us a splendid gift, intelligence ; we 
 have not known how to make use of it ; we have done nothing but 
 stupidity ; she withdraws it : she is right." 
 
 " But steam, electricity, are they nothing ? " 
 
 " No ! Not while one half of the world lives on the other half, wliile 
 it is possible for a man to die of hunger witli heaps of food before him." 
 
 " Monsieur Keradec, you become lugubrious ; the air of this tomb 
 is dangerous, let us hurry over it ; 1 would prefer you to talk to me 
 of Ti."
 
 252 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Willingly, it will be more interesting. Let ns enter the apart- 
 ments of Pharaoh's intimate. The pillars of this court must have 
 formerly supported a peristyle, of which no trace remains. But 
 observe these walls of beautiful calcareous stone of fine and compact 
 o-rain ; how delicately they have been adorned ! The scenes depicted 
 thereon, enriched by colour, are strikingly true. A¥hat delicacy in 
 the lines of these bas-reliefs, yet so boldly scooped out ; how sure the 
 hand ! What suppleness in the execution ! and what a sense of truth 
 and observation, in spite of the intentional suppression of details ! 
 
 " Built partly during the lifetime, and partly after the death of 
 the person, this tomb gives us the best possible insight into the life 
 of the Egyptians of that period." 
 
 Jacques is astonished. Ondsime, even, is interested in all these 
 naive, gay scenes above all, scenes that have been lived. 
 
 " Here," explains the Doctor, "are statues of our dignitary ; they 
 are placing them in boats, which carry them to the tomb he has 
 chosen ; one of the bullocks destined to the sacrifice is seized, bound 
 by the feet, and the servants are making ready to slaughter it. There, 
 it is Ti himself, with his wife and children, overlooking the work of 
 his people — some are loading sacks, others stufi" poultry with paste 
 balls ; farther on it is the farm and its dependencies — meadows where 
 bullocks browse, pools where ducks dabble, flocks of geese, flights of 
 pigeons, and a quantity of other birds of various kinds ; there are 
 even gazelles and antelopes. 
 
 '' We cannot pay a visit to the well, completely stopfjed up, leading 
 to the sarcophagus, the entrance to which is here, in the centre of this 
 court. This passage has the peculiarity, which must be noted, of 
 being on a slope instead of vertical. 
 
 " Let us now take this corridor at the angle of the court. The 
 different pictures that succeed each other on the sides represent the 
 passage of the defunct into the other life. First of all it is the carrying 
 of acacia and ebonj'-wood statues, the writing explains ; groups of 
 musicians and dancers, bullocks that are to be slaughtered in sacrifice, 
 servants bearing funeral gifts, baskets of flowers, dishes, salvers 
 loaded with vases ; then it's the Nile with boats under sail, others
 
 DIGRESSIONS ON EGYPTIAN ART. 253 
 
 containing the body of Ti and the funeral gifts, propelled by manv 
 oarsmen. 
 
 " Here we are at the end of the passage, at the door of the principal 
 room. Let us enter. What a variety of subjects I What life ! What 
 movement in all these representations I 
 
 " Observe this vessel in dock, this action of ploughing, these oxen 
 treading out the corn, others passing a ford conducted by a drovei-, 
 these games on the water, these fish from which they are scraping the 
 scales and are preparing. Here are acrobats, harpers, wild beasts 
 being removed in cages. We find Ti hunting in his boat ; in the 
 middle of the marsh he holds a bird-call, and throws at the aquatic 
 birds a curved stick, a sort of boomerang, similar to what the natives 
 of Australia use. Crocodiles and hippopotami are hiding in the reeds ; 
 an attendant harpoons one of the latter, and beside him a crocodile is 
 struggling with another hippopotamus. 
 
 " There are troops of women with kouftas on their heads containing 
 fruit, vegetables, wine, birds, animals. More sylvan scenes, and always 
 Ti with his stick. 
 
 " There are painters — like you, Monsieur Jacques — sculptors ; then 
 tanners, shoemakers, glass-blowers, and others. All Egypt passes 
 here. 
 
 " On this western side, before these two false doors, were the statnes 
 of Ti and his wife : you will find them at the Boulak Museum. 
 
 " Now what do you think of your brother-artists of the time of Ti ? " 
 
 " I think them wonderful, and if they had not been condemned by 
 an inflexible theocratical government to a defined, unalterable formula, 
 compelling them to be ever recopying themselves, they would certainly 
 have given us other masterpieces of exceptional originality. 
 
 " In their animal paintings there is a vast amount of observation 
 and truth. The execution is at once summary and admirably 
 executed. 
 
 " The suppression of details, the accentuation of special charac- 
 teristics ; the firm, elegant delineation, where the line is ir- 
 reproachably correct and elastic, give a particular cachet to their 
 work, never to be forgotten.
 
 254 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " In representing human beings, their sculpture is less free ; one 
 feels that the priest has forced the hand of the artist, has traced him 
 out a line, from which he must never deviate. The form displayed 
 •with exaggerated conciseness and absolute disdain of detail, the 
 conventional stiffness of the lines, the similitude in the fixed, majestic 
 attitudes, the identical expression of the physiognomies, their in- 
 tended symmetry, envelop Egyptian art in a sort of mystic veil, which 
 weighs upon the imagination and fatigues it. 
 
 " The imposing severity of the lines is hardly sufficient to excuse 
 their stiffness ; the serenity of the faces does not compensate for the 
 vague fixedness of those uniform visages ; finally, those sought-out 
 attitudes of eternal repose, immobilising the gesture in these 
 colossi, beset you like something contrary to nature. It would be 
 quite a crushing monotony were it not so highly formulated." 
 
 "You are right; one feels that the artist has worked in prison, 
 under the eye and at the instigation of a sacred scribe, of a therapeuta, 
 who imposed on him, along with a unique, hard, and stiff formula like 
 his own monuments, the sacrifice of his individuality, stopi^iug all 
 initiative, all research, all progress, ignoring or casting from him all 
 ideal, petrifying his genius in a definite, immutable, hieratic mould." 
 
 " Go on ! " said On^sime ; " your manufacturers of stone gods were 
 not artists, at most they were stone-masons. Would not real artists 
 have very soon sent these Mecfenas of the vestr}' to Jericho ? Do you 
 think genius accepts masters or inquires its way ? They have done 
 that because they had only that in them, do you hear, my son I They 
 were copyists, clever in caligraphy and nothing more ; and yourself, 
 refractory as you are to all discipline, abominable canvas-dauber, you 
 would make a fine set-out if you were in the least degree obstructed in 
 your ideas, if any one tried to put a break to the mad pranks of your 
 brain. 
 
 " I prefer their minor painters of simple subjects, of still life. 
 They are very monotonous, very lugubrious, with their everlasting 
 mummies in boats, their gods with the heads of animals, and all the 
 entanglement of their allegories and hieroglyphics ; but still they are 
 sometimes funny, one meets with some ludicrous scenes ; it produces
 
 BAS-KELIEFS OF THE TOMB OF TI. 
 
 255 
 
 the effect of a burst of laughter at a funeral, but it is amusing : this 
 scene of the payment of the impost, for example, representing mayors, 
 armed with the stick of course, bringing the ratepayers within their 
 jurisdiction before scribes, the tax-collectors of the period. 
 
 " One sees that Jacques Bonhomme, in all countries, has always 
 reluctantly paid his money and received blows, and that the poor man 
 must have his loins covered with callous skin. 
 
 
 
 Mariette's house 
 
 " They must also have been fond of good fare, judging by the way 
 in which they delighted in representing victuals. 
 
 " Just look at that goose : isn't it plump ? Doesn't it provoke 
 the appetite ? What round legs ! What a luxuriant stomach ! One 
 could almost eat it I " And On^sime softly felt the bas-relief of the 
 bird, and his pleasant face beamed all over. 
 
 " Were they truffled, or merely filled with chestnuts ? " he asked 
 apart. 
 
 " Only with little onions, my friend. It was the vegetable the 
 Egyptians preferred."
 
 256 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Their god ! " added Keradec. 
 
 " It must have been divinely good." 
 
 As they chatted, they left the mausoleum. 
 
 " If you lilce," said the Doctor, " we will go and rest in Mariette's 
 house, at two steps from here ; then we will visit the Serapeum." 
 
 After a short walk through some hillocks of sand, fallen-in tombs, 
 from which a bleached bone, a mummy's bandage, the carcass of a 
 jackal, occasionally juts out, they come in sight of the little house that 
 serves Mariette as a shelter. 
 
 At their approach an old Arab with a white beard meets them, and 
 conducts them under the large verandah preceding the house. Two 
 other Arabs offer them rush-bottomed chairs, filtered water, and, 
 shortly afterwards, some excellent coffee. The donkey boys stretch 
 themselves out near their animals, Jacques produces his pipe, Onesime 
 lights a cigar, the Doctor rolls a cigarette.
 
 A Bedouin Canii 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Ghawazi and AwAlin. — Their exile to Esneh. — Memphis. — Who Menes was. — 
 Whence came the Ancient Egyptians V — The god Phtah and his temple. — The 
 bull Apis and the honours rendered to him. — Onesime an augur. — He beats all 
 the prophets and disentangles the oracles. — His explanation of the signs of 
 the bull Apis. — A compromising moonbeam. — On sacrifices and the victims. — 
 Effect of the sun. — Greatness and decline of the city of Menes. — Mariette's 
 discovery. — Jacques and Ke'radec explore the Serapeum. — Onesime reproaches 
 them with troubling by their noisy visits poor mummies who only want to 
 rest in peace. — A breakneck gallop to Bedrasheen station. 
 
 '' XT is extremely nice here," said Ouesime, who was sipping his 
 -^ coffee astride on a chair. 
 
 '' It only needs some Ahuehs and singers to pass a delicious after- 
 noon beneath the shade of this verandah." 
 
 " Faith I they would be welcome ; we have seen a great many 
 things, but no Almehs. It's a gap, a serious gap, in the course of our 
 studies of the crude." 
 
 '• I thought you were disgusted with studies of life, after experience 
 of the fellaheen, male and female, daring our journey from Alexandria 
 to Cairo." 
 
 " Ah I yes, I have had enough of those creatures, but the Almehs 1 
 By Jove ! that's another matter " ; and Onesime stroked his beard 
 conceitedly and tried to look bewitching. 
 
 267 17
 
 258 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Yon must wait until yon are at Esneh, Monsienr Onesime, to 
 find the dancers, in Arabic, Ghdicazi^ and singers, Aivdlin, which is 
 the phiral of Almeh ; and I am afraid that when yon see them yon 
 
 will exjierience bitter deception." 
 
 " "What ! Doctor ! the Almehs — excnse 
 mo, the Awaliu in the plnral ; that's it, is 
 it not?" 
 
 " The Awalin are the singers." 
 " I refer to the dancers, the — what do yon 
 call them ? " 
 " Ghawazi." 
 
 " Yes, that's it, the Ghawazi : are they 
 falling into decay ? " 
 
 " Alas ! Yes. Like the Phara- 
 
 ;:^. onic monuments, the Arab mosqnes; 
 like evervthiusf here bnt the Nile and 
 
 the fellaheen." 
 
 " They are irremovable, like the 
 Senators.'" 
 
 " Y^'es, and inalienable and unat- 
 tachable, like the inheritance of a minor or 
 sequestrated property. Abbas Pacha, under 
 the pressure of the Mussulman clergy, drove 
 them out of Cairo and relegated them to 
 Esneh." 
 
 " Oh I those priests ; they must always 
 meddle with what does not concern them ! " 
 " It is true that the Princes, the high 
 dignitaries, the rich, mined themselves for 
 them in a mad way." 
 " But don't they ruin themselves at home, in the same manner, for 
 Ghawazi of the Opera, who are much less interesting and quite as 
 costly, if not more so ? " 
 
 " That may be. They are none the less fallen from their ancient 
 splendour, and reduced to delight the people of Esneh and Cook and 
 
 Ghawazi dancing the dance of the 
 wasp.
 
 THE GHAWAZI AND AWALIN. 259 
 
 Son's tourists. Yon will see them there dressed in long gowns, the 
 "bosom covered with seqnins, the hair plaited in a row of long thin 
 tresses, intoxicated with vermouth, in a filthy den, lit up by candles 
 fixed in the necks of empty bottles. On a mat spread out over the 
 beaten earth, to the accompaniment of rebecks and daraboukas, they 
 will perform before you, for a large baksheesh, three-quarters of which 
 will be taken by the dragoman, the dance of the wasp, or even of the 
 sword. There is a certain symmetry in their evolutions, consisting at 
 times in lascivious undulations, in voluptuous movements of the hips, 
 now abrupt and jerky, now very lithe, very soft, accentuated at 
 moments by a prolonged trepidation at the lower part of the 
 loins, and scanned by the sound of the crotali which they hold 
 above them in their hands, while the bust and legs are as motionless 
 iis in a statue. It is quite the vibrabiint sine Jim, prurientes lascicos 
 docili tremore lumbos of the daughters of Gades in the epigrams of 
 Martial." 
 
 " It's simply what we call in Paris the danse dii ventre ? " 
 
 " Nothing else ; and, besides, either of the three Consuls at Luxor 
 would take a pleasure in arranging for you to be present at one of 
 these little fetes. For women of this sort are also to be found at 
 Luxor and in certain other towns of Upper Egypt." 
 
 " The Consuls ! " 
 
 " Yes, the English, French, German — Arabs, naturally. They will 
 have no scruj)le, either, in selling you false beetles, mummies, stela?, 
 manufactured by themselves or under their direction ; and their brats, 
 who run about the room, will thankfully accept any baksheesh you like 
 to ofi'er them." 
 
 " That's rather nice, that." 
 
 " Bah ! " said Jacques, " at home baksheesh is called a tip, drink 
 money, or so ; the diflerence between them and us is that we have 
 several words to express the thing, and they have only one. A matter 
 of language." 
 
 " And your Serapeum, to return to your frightful Pharaohs," asked 
 Onesime, "is it very far ? " 
 
 " Two steps."
 
 260 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " All ! So much the Letter I These marches and coimter-marches- 
 through mummies' bones, broken jars, dirty linen, and a lot of old 
 things that have fallen in, on a donkey that stumbles at every step,, 
 are fatiguing and not at all gay. Here, in the shade of this verandah, 
 one at least breathes. And so those are the ruins of Memphis ? " he 
 remarked, waving his hand towards the desert. 
 
 " Alas ! Yes, Monsieur On^sime, and yet God knows what an 
 immense site Memphis occupied, the first, the most celebrated, the 
 largest city of antiquity. 
 
 " It extended from east to west over the entire space comprised 
 
 The Nile and the Pyramids. 
 
 between the Nile and the Libyan desert ; the pyramids of Ghizeh 
 bounded it on the north, and those of Dashour on the south. 
 
 " Herodotus attributes the foundation of it to Menes, the first 
 monarch after the age of fable. On the ruins of the theocratic system 
 whicn he had just overthrown, he established military government and 
 absolute and unique royalty. He diverted the course of the Nile to 
 increase the area of the city, had a gigantic dyke built, the W/iiie Wally 
 the Dam of Kosheish of the present day, to secure it against inundation 
 and attacks of the enemy, raised temples to the gods and regulated 
 their worship, suppressing the privileges of the priests of Heliopolis, 
 who were then all-powerful. The latter avenged themselves by having" 
 him devoured by a hippopotamus at the age of sixty."
 
 WHENCE CAME THE ANCIENT EGYPTIANS ? 261 
 
 "A priestly vengeance! But, Doctor, wliere on earth did this 
 Menes come from, this happy soldier who, all at once, five thousand 
 years before Jesus Christ, makes his appearance from no one knows 
 where, raises by a wave of his wand an entire city with monuments 
 and after victory suddenly becomes architect and legislator for o-ods 
 and men. A people at the commencement generally throw out feelers 
 and it is hard to believe that they accomplished such a prodio-v, all at 
 once, and at such a remote i)eriod." 
 
 " You forget that Menes did not find a nation in an embryo state 
 but a civilisation already old, a theocratic government firmlv esta- 
 blished, and merely substituted his authority for that f)f the priests 
 while continuing their work. That is the story related to Herodotus 
 by the priests of Phtah." 
 
 " But you cannot believe what those hierophants, as clever as old 
 monkeys, said ! " 
 
 " One may suppose that, for several thousands of years before 
 Menes, the Egyptians, isolated from the rest of mankind by the 
 •desert, which was diflicult to cross, and by the sea, which was an 
 impenetrable barrier, also having the advantages of an exceptional 
 -climate, of a valley of remarkable fertility, thanks to the regular 
 inundations of a river unique on the face of the globe, sheltered from 
 want, from intemperate weather, from warfare, must have developed 
 more rapidly and under more advantageous circumstances than other 
 nations less favoured by their geographical position." 
 
 " But of what race were these Egyj)tians ? " 
 
 " Perhaps a branch detached from a red race of the plateau of the 
 Himalayas, who, previous to their migration, had already mingled 
 with a white race. This mixed people, at an unknown period, perhaps 
 -crossed the Isthmus of Suez and established themselves on the banks 
 of the Nile, where they may have found negro tribes, whom they 
 reduced to slavery, already installed here. The Copts are supposed 
 to be the descendants of this first invasion. 
 
 " A third cross was produced by the conquered contributing a little 
 negro blood to the red and white. This threefold mixture, increased 
 by successive doses, in une<pial proportions, of those three races, by
 
 262 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 iutiltratioii as in the case of the Hebrews, by invasions as in that of 
 the Hyksos, must, in a few years, have kneaded all these groups into 
 one type, and have definitely constituted the Egyptian race." 
 
 " And Menes was ? " 
 
 "A white barbarian, a Scyth, a Tamahou, come from the North, 
 with a horde of warriors, who burst into the peaceful and religious 
 valley of the Nile, and seized, as later on the Hyksos conquered by 
 force, a country whose civilisation he adopted instead of destroying it. 
 
 " The syllable Ker, essentially Celtic, which you find stuck on to 
 the names of several kings of different dynasties, is a certain indica- 
 tion of the Aryan origin of the conquerors Nekheropis, Nephekera,. 
 Kerpheres, Seberkheres." 
 
 " Ker-adec, then, Doctor ! There are your ancestors become 
 conquerors of Egypt. I can understand now your great love for tlie 
 Pharaohs. You are their cousin." 
 
 " And you also, Monsieur Coquillard, for you are of the family, a 
 Celt also." 
 
 " Crossed with a negro," said Jacques. " There must have been 
 some gri-gri of the Congo among your ancestors." 
 
 " And you, you ill-licked cub," replied Onesime, " some Northern 
 boar with red hair of the genus li.onio rufus hjperborealis, some 
 laggard of the invasion forgotten in France." 
 
 " You both come from the same race," said the Doctor, laughing,, 
 amused at the frequent tussles between the two friends. " Monsieur 
 Onesime is of the brown Celtic branch, the most ancient Aryan horde 
 that emigrated to Europe. You, Monsieur Jacques, are of the 
 second horde, the fair branch. You are a pure Gaul." 
 
 " Like Menes, who, no doubt, brought a god with him which he 
 acclimatised in Egypt." 
 
 " He was satisfied with the one he found there, the god Phtah, to 
 whom he raised a temple, which was enlarged and enriched suc- 
 cessively under all the Pharaohs. 
 
 " This was the most ancient god of Egypt, ' Primitive fire,' the 
 * Father of the Sun.' He afterwards became the Hephaestus of the 
 Greeks, the Vulcan of the Romans."
 
 THE GOD PHTAH. 
 
 263 
 
 " Did Menes leave descendants ? " 
 
 " No, lie lost his only son. In reference to this subject the people 
 composed a song of mourning, the ' Maneros,' which was transmitted 
 from century to century." 
 
 "In Egypt, as in France, 
 all ends by song." 
 
 " "When they sang it they 
 placed a death's-head on the 
 table." 
 
 " Those people always had 
 an undertaker's gaiet}'." 
 
 " Phtah, the demiurgos, the 
 cahiric artisan, passed as the 
 creator of worlds, ' the Originator 
 of all ' ; he was termed ' the 
 Opener,' because he had broken 
 the ^%g from which the sun and 
 moon issued. Under the name 
 of Phtah-Sokar-Osiris, he was 
 the protector of the Necropolis 
 of Memphis, and the word 
 Sakarah is merely a corruption 
 of his name Sokar-Osiris. It 
 was he who gave the sun that 
 had set the power to re-appear, 
 the dead that of resurrection." 
 
 " A sort of precursor of 
 Jove." 
 
 '' The bull Apis, the animal 
 that was consecrated to him, 
 was treated with particular care : he resided in the temple, reposed 
 behind magnificently worked drapery, embroidered with gold and 
 ornamented with precious stones, on a carefully selected litter. They 
 gave him a mash of fine barley flour and peeled wheat, milk, pastry 
 prepared with honey I They spoilt him in every way. 
 
 The god Phtah.
 
 264 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " He had liis liarem of cows." 
 
 " The happy rascal I " 
 
 " His mother, the cow that had dropped him, was no more taken 
 to the bull, and shared, in a measure, the honours of which he was the 
 object ; she had her stall and her private attendants." 
 
 " And what, apart from the sweet occupation of allowing himself to 
 be adored, were the duties of this worthy bull ? For I suppose that 
 
 The bull Apis. 
 
 these honourable Egyptians did not entertain him so plentifully to do 
 nothing." 
 
 " He delivered oracles, for he possessed the power of seeing into 
 the future. Thus it was considered a favourable omen when he came 
 and ate the food that was offered him in the hand. Those who 
 consnlted liim previously burned incense before the window looking on 
 to the yard where he was let loose at certain liours, placed on the 
 altar a piece of money, and filled the lami)s with oil ; then, approaching
 
 THE BULL APIS AND THE HONOURS RENDERED TO HIM. 265 
 
 tlieir mouth to the bull's ear, they (luestioned him on the matters that 
 interested them ; tlien, stopping up their ears immediately, and 
 keeping them so until they were out of the temple, the first words 
 that they heard when they were once in the street were considered to 
 be the oracle's answer, and, as such, were received with respect." 
 
 " It was rather an original style of answer, but very elastic and 
 passably intricate. Was not his worthy brother of Heliopolis, the 
 bull Mnevis, less complicated in his manner of proceeding ? " 
 
 " He acted in the same way, as also did the bull Onuphis of 
 Hermonthis." 
 
 " These fat prebendaries were everywhere then ? " 
 
 " There were only those three, but Apis, adored throughout Egypt, 
 was more popular than his rivals. Onuphis, however, was not to be 
 disdained. Macrobius relates marvels of him ; his coat, it seems, 
 grew the wrong way, and changed colour every hour." 
 
 " He must have astounded his parishioners, that chameleon ! " 
 
 " The inauguration of the kings took place in the temple of the 
 bull Apis." 
 
 " This Memphis was the Rheims of the Nile, then ; the anointed 
 of the Lord was consecrated there." 
 
 " With a little ceremony that was not without interest : they 
 placed the yoke of Apis on the king's shoulders, and he had to pass 
 down the street with this inconvenient apparatus." 
 
 " They cruelly avenged themselves for this affront, the scoundrels 
 of kings, by making their subjects, those condemned to the pyramids 
 for life, carry a heavier yoke." 
 
 " The office of Holy Bull was doubtless hereditary in the family of 
 these lazy oracles. They must have formed a stock of Apis ? " 
 
 " Not at all. It was not every member of the bovine race that 
 had the chance of becoming Apis : the aspirant to this title had to 
 unite certain special and clearly defined characteristics. They numbered 
 twenty-nine." 
 
 " And these signs were ? " 
 
 " He was first of all recognised by his coat." 
 
 " It was of your colour," remarked Jacques.
 
 266 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " His hair certainly," and the Doctor smiled as he looked at 
 On^sime, " had to be black : on the forehead there must be a white 
 spot of a triangular form, on the back the image of an eagle, on the 
 rio-ht side a white crescent, under the tongue a wart or knot in the 
 shape of a beetle, besides important secondary signs." 
 
 " But the coat of that animal predicted as clearly as daylight the 
 destinies of Egypt." 
 
 " How is that ? " 
 
 " Oh ! it's very simple ! The triangular white spot indicates the 
 triumph of Christianity and the overthrow of Osiris." 
 
 "And why so?" 
 
 " I am ashamed to have to explain it to you. Is not the triangle 
 a symbol for Christians, that of the Holy Trinity ? " 
 
 " Agreed ! But its white colour ? " 
 
 " Are not Christians Europeans, consequently white ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " The crescent signifies unquestionably the arrival of the con- 
 quering Arabs. Is it not so ? The eagle on the back, the victorious 
 eagles of Bonaparte, the expedition to Egypt, the French who fell 
 on the — backs of the Egyptians. One must be blind not to see it." 
 
 " And the knot ? " 
 
 " The knot in the form of a beetle, also ! That completes it. For 
 persons who decipher hieroglyphics currently, your hesitation grieves 
 me. The knot is an emblem of slavery — prisoners are tied ; the beetle 
 means that this slavery will last for ever — beetle, symbol of eternal 
 duration." 
 
 " And the black coat of Apis ? " 
 
 " But you are more obstinate, more incredulous, now, than St. 
 Thomas ! It was the mourning worn by Apis for their lost liberties. 
 Do you understand now ? " 
 
 Jacques and Keradcc were annihilated. On^sime assumed in their 
 eyes Olympian proportions. 
 
 " That is not all, gentlemen," continued the latter; " Onuphis also 
 predicted their ruin ! A coat with hair growing the wrong way, a 
 sign that events would occur which would make their hair stand on
 
 btieet in Caim.
 
 THE SIGNS OF THE BULL APIS. 269 
 
 end ; change of colour every hour, a way of saying that they wouhl 
 see things of all colours. And I have not finished I Mnevis ac- 
 centuates the predictions of his two colleagues. His gilded horns are 
 the Golden Horn, the Bosphorus, Constantinople — in a word, the 
 Turks ! Bristling hair, confirmation of the oracle of Apis. 
 
 " And his comrade, moreover I The lion with the luminous coat, 
 the gilded claws ! Who does not recognise there the British Lion, 
 and in tlie gilded claws the cavalry of St. George settling the fate of 
 Egypt at Tel-el-Kehir ? Hey 1 isn't that smart ? Is he sufficiently 
 trampled on, your Commander of the Prophets, your old bonze of 
 a Ti : " 
 
 His two friends, recovered from their stupefaction, burst out into 
 a mad laugh, in which Onesime heartily joined. 
 
 " I told you your great-great-grandfather was a gri-gri, a sorcerer." 
 
 " A sorcerer might pass, but not one in ebony wood.'' 
 
 " Ah I Monsieur Onesime, if the last Apis had not been mummified 
 long since, I should really think " 
 
 " That his double had entered your skin." 
 
 " Thanks for the compliment ; I look like a bull then ? " 
 
 " Xo ; but what a diviner I " 
 
 " Ah I that's in the family, my friend : it comes of itself, without 
 an eftort," said Onesime, in a modest tone. " It's by intuition, I 
 divine, as you paint, without thinking of it ; it's a natural gift. But 
 tell me, Doctor, our ceremony of the procession of the Fat Ox is, 
 doubtless, a relic of the Feast of Apis ? " 
 
 "Yes, but we are much less exacting towards him than were the 
 Memphites. 
 
 " Under a republican government, my friend, there are no 
 privileges, even for animals; every ox can become Apis, as every soldier 
 can become Marshal." 
 
 " Yes, but to play the part of Apis a decent abdomen is necessary." 
 
 " Like yours." 
 
 " And they eat the ox, anyhow, instead of giving him to eat." 
 
 '•' He must have been of illustrious birth, this creature favoured of 
 the gods ? " inquired Jacques.
 
 ^10 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " He was bom of a cow rendered fecnud by a mooubeam." 
 
 " That moonbeam was very compromising for the virtue of Madam 
 Apis, the mother. It would be a nice question of divorce, at the present 
 ■day, this indiscreet interference of the Divinity in private life result- 
 ing in a series of unwished-for and unexpected intruders in the family 
 life of poor mortals." 
 
 " It's the privilege of the gods and kings. The latter also had the 
 right of taking certain liberties, as in the middle ages." 
 
 " He was the symbol of the constellation of the Bull," continued 
 Keradec. "As soon as the ministers of the cult discovered a bull 
 fulfilling the indispensable conditions, they built him a house on the 
 spot, the doorway facing the east, and for four months they fed him 
 on milk. "When the new moon appeared, the priests came to see 
 him, and greeted him with a particular ceremonial ; a gilded vessel, 
 provided with a sumptuous bed, was prepared to transport him to 
 Memphis, and a procession of priests escorted him. 
 
 " On the way they stopped at Nicopolis, where he was fed on choice 
 food, and during the forty days that he remained there, only women 
 had the right to visit him, and behaved in a most indecent way." 
 
 " That was rather naughty on the part of a people who prided 
 themselves on having invented wisdom." 
 
 " From there he was taken to Memphis, and placed in a delicious 
 retreat, in the midst of a sacred wood close to the temple. 
 
 " Near at hand, in an elegant chalet, carefully selected heifers 
 awaited the good pleasure of their lord and master. 
 
 " This was the Little Trianon, the Parc-aux-Cerfs, of the redoubted 
 bull Apis ; it was quite Regency style. In the evening the Sultan 
 threw the handkerchief to her whom his caprice desired to make 
 his temporary choice companion ; in the daytime, his bovine majesty 
 had his great and small levees, gave his grand audiences to the public 
 in tlie temple, listening to the complaints of his subjects and then 
 delivering his oracles. This was a royal bull ! Louis XV. could 
 not have done better." 
 
 " Certain authors, however, pretend that his habits were better 
 looked after, and were less free, that he had a more respectable
 
 ON SACRIFICES AND THE VICTIMS. 271 
 
 gyna3ceum, tliat he was a monogamist and very reserved in his love 
 aflairs, only sacrificing once a year to them, and only bestowing his 
 favours on a single heifer, who also possessed characteristic exterior 
 spots which jirocured her that honour." 
 
 '• Then he was less of a libertine than they made him out to be." 
 
 " When he went out, officers escorted him to keep back the crowd, 
 and young children preceded him burning incense, throwing flowers 
 and singing verses in his praise. 
 
 " They sacrificed bulls, bullocks, and calves to him, but never cows 
 or heifers, which were sacred to Isis. 
 
 " These had to be pure, that is to say, red, without a black or white 
 hair. 
 
 " To the sphragist was entrusted the care of examining the victim ; 
 this done and found satisfactory, he sealed the animal by marking it 
 with the imprint of a man on his knees, the hands fastened behind the 
 back and a sword on his throat. It was then placed on a wood-pile on 
 the altar ; the fire was lighted, and after having poured wine over the 
 animal, they slaughtered it. Imprecations were cast upon its head, 
 which was cut off, and Greeks were allowed to carry it away if they 
 came for it. If not it was thrown into the Nile, the Egyj^tians under 
 no circumstances eating the head of any animal." 
 
 " The bullock was then reduced to cinders ? " 
 
 " Xo, indeed I Herodotus tells us that the manner of burning and 
 cutting up the victims varied with the species of animal. 
 
 " In the case of the bullock they first of all removed the inside and 
 threw it into the Nile. The feet, the neck, the shoulders were cut off, 
 the inside stufled with bread and honey ; raisins and figs were added; 
 then myrrh, incense, and other aromatics, and the whole was sprinkled 
 with oil. During the jirocess of cooking, which was overlooked by the 
 jiriests, the company mutually chastised each other until the sacrifice 
 was completed and the victim cooked to a nicety." 
 
 " To give themselves an appetite." 
 
 •' What then ? " 
 
 " The crowd treated themselves to a feed of beef-steak, roast beef, 
 and rump-steak that would have put Gargantna to shame."
 
 272 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 " Of course, not till after the priests had taken their share of the 
 banquet." 
 
 " The best pieces ? " 
 
 " Naturally ! " 
 
 " Those good old hierophants ! " 
 
 " Father Apis must have lived to a ripe old age under such an 
 administration." 
 
 " Alas ! Apis only lived for a certain time : that was the reverse 
 of the medal. After twenty-five years he was slaughtered and cast 
 into a holy well that was known only to the priests. If he died before 
 the expiration of that period, he was buried with pomp ; his remains 
 were placed in a chapel with brazen doors or in subterranean 
 caves ; the ministers of religion shaved their heads, and the whole 
 people went into mourning until a successor to the deceased Apis 
 was found. 
 
 " The vulture was the symbol of Phtah, and the lion also rej)resented 
 him." 
 
 " But," inquired Onesime, " he must have had a wife of some kind 
 somewhere, this Phtah, a companion, ' a palm tree of delight,' to speak 
 as the gallant Ti, a little hen to incubate his celebrated egg and hatch 
 those famous chicks the sun and moon ? One cannot make an egg all 
 alone, after all ! " 
 
 " He had the third share of a wife " 
 
 " A third share ? " 
 
 " That was unfortunately his lot. Kronos and Thoth divided the 
 favours of the goddess Athor with him." 
 
 " The goddess with three husbands ? What a woman this goddess 
 was, after all ! She also must have had a temple where she was 
 adored." 
 
 "Yes, in the nome of Menilaites at Momemphis, as well as at 
 Atarbechis, the city of Athor, which Strabo terms Aphroditopolis, the 
 city of Venus." 
 
 " They must have been rather dissipated in those little nests 1 " 
 
 " The Greeks knew of her in Egypt by the name of the ' Dark 
 Venus.' "
 
 EFFECT OF THE SUN. 273 
 
 " Because she sought out these little nooks ? " 
 
 " Rather, Monsieur Ouesime, on account of the black veil that 
 covered her." 
 
 " It served to hide her frolics." 
 
 " She was simply in mourning for her virginity, my friend. The 
 hawk was her symbol, the cow her adored and venerated image ; the 
 mouse and the dove were sacred to her." 
 
 " Now that you are edified in regard to these dear Apis we'll go 
 and see their tombs, if you're agreeable ? " said Jacques, rising. 
 
 " Let's go," said Keradec. 
 
 " Well, and you ? " Jacques inquired of On^sime, who did not 
 show any sign of moving. 
 
 " Oh I I remain ; I will wait for you here." 
 
 " You don't want to see the Serapeum ? " 
 
 " Faith I no. Monsieur Keradec relates all these stories of the 
 past so nicely, your own sketches are so true to nature, that I prefer to 
 listen to the Doctor's description of the Serapeum and to consult your 
 album ; not to see it for myself. I get mixed up with my impressions. 
 I cannot make them clear, whereas after listening to your explanation, 
 Monsieur Keradec, and looking at your sketches, my friend, the thing 
 is engraved in my head and does not move. It's fixed. 
 
 " Proceed, gentlemen, do not let me detain you " ; and Ondsime, 
 whose eyes commence blinking, indicates the Serapeum to them with 
 a pretty wave of the hand. 
 
 Jacques and Ke'radec set out laughing ; they understand that 
 Onesime wants to have liis little siesta, and they walk towards the 
 tombs of the Apis. 
 
 From where they stand, Cairo and its Citadel with its two slender 
 minarets can be seen in the background ; the city comes out very 
 white, on the left against the deep blue sky, on the right against the 
 tawny hills of Mokattam. The Nile sparkles at its feet, and is 
 rendered still more luminous by the contrast of the burnt-ochre tones 
 of the desert, which borders the Libyan bank. Here, at about two 
 hundred paces from them, in the foreground, is an intensely blue lake, 
 and on its banks a herd of buffaloes watched by two Arabs in the 
 
 18
 
 274 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 shade, beneath a solitary tamarisk. The efFect is striking in colour 
 and power. 
 
 " Memphis must have been a wonderful city," Jacques remarked to 
 the Doctor, as they approached the Serapeum. 
 
 "Unique! The city of Phtah, ' Akou Phtah,' which they 
 called the good port, ' Mannofri,' Memphis. That statue we saw 
 this morning, near Mitrahineh, half buried in the mud, was one of 
 the two colossi that Sesostris erected before the gate of the temple 
 of Phtah. 
 
 " Even after the invasion of the Hyksos, when Thebes had become 
 
 Cairo from the desert. 
 
 the capital of the Pharaohs, Memphis continued to prosper for a long 
 time. 
 
 " Its port on the Nile was the mart of Egypt, and of the East. 
 People assembled there by nationalities. In one part of the city the 
 Phoenicians had their houses of business, their temple erected to Venus 
 Aphrodite or Astarte ; and the noise, the animation that reigned there, 
 formed a striking contrast to the calm and grave tranquillity of the 
 Egyptian city. Near the ' White Wall ' was the military quarter, with 
 its numerous barracks. 
 
 " Its industry was renowned ; its schools depending on the temple 
 of Phtah were much frequented and appreciated. From a strategic 
 point of view, it was one of the principal bulwarks of the empire, and
 
 maeiette's discoveky. 275 
 
 its famous fortress, the ' White Wall/ victoriously resisted long sieges 
 and furious assaults at different periods. 
 
 '- The founding of Alexandria dealt Memphis a blow ; that of 
 Fostat despatched it. Reduced to the state of a quarry, Memphis was 
 abandoned for Amrou's new city ; the marble and alabaster of the 
 Pharaonic or Greek monuments served to form the interior of the 
 Arab mosques, the hewn stone was used for their walls, the dlded 
 wooden beams ornamented the houses of the ' believers,' and its ruins 
 soon disappeared beneath the desert sand, leaving nothing of Memphis 
 but its half-buried Xecropolis. 
 
 "Here we are at the Serapeum. At this same spot, forty years 
 ago, Mariette, perceiving the head of a sphinx penetrating through the 
 sand, had the surrounding ground cleared away, and recognised one 
 of those statues that figure in the avenues approaching the great 
 Egyptian temples. Hearing the Arabs say that similar statues had 
 been discovered at the same spot, then remembering a passage in 
 Strabo where a description of the Serapeum seemed to coincide with 
 the aspect of the ground where he had commenced his excavations, 
 he was convinced that he was on the traces of the celebrated temple, 
 so famous in antiquity. 
 
 " He advanced the work with ceaseless activity. In two months 
 the avenue was cleared ; a number of other sphinxes, some intact, 
 others mutilated, were brought to light, as well as the statues of great 
 philosophers and literary men of Greece, arranged in a hemicycle 
 terminating the avenue. The space between the latter and the 
 hemicycle was crossed by a dromos, ending on the left at a temple 
 of Apis flanked by two enormous sphinxes, on the right at the temple 
 of the Serapeum, with its two crouching lions placed in front of its 
 pylons. This dromos was bordered by a multitude of statues of 
 animals, of groups of Greek statuary. Hundreds of small figures of 
 divinities in bronze were found in the foundations of the temple. 
 
 " In spite of the falling in of the ground, which the great depth 
 that they had reached rendered more frequent and dangerous ; 
 notwithstanding the obstacles of all sorts against which he had to 
 struggle, Mariette, thanks to extraordinary perseverance, to invincible
 
 276 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 tenacity and energy, overcame all difficnlties ; and, after eight 
 months' constant struggle, attained the end of his labour. A final 
 blow from the pickaxe of a fellah opened the entrance to the sacred 
 hypogeum. 
 
 " Mariette relates his discovery in the following terms :— 
 " ' The tomb of Apis is a subterranean edifice, and when, on the 
 12th November, 18.51, I penetrated within it for the first time, I 
 confess that I was overcome with a feeling of astonishment, which 
 after five years is not yet quite efi'aced from my mind. 
 
 " ' By an accident that I have difficulty in understanding, a chamber 
 in the tomb of Apis, closed up in the year 30 of Rameses II., had 
 escaped the spoliations of the monument, and I had the pleasure 
 of finding it intact. Three thousand seven hundred years had not 
 changed its primitive appearance. The finger-marks of the Egyptian 
 who had closed the last stone of the wall built across the door were 
 still on the cement. Naked feet had left their imprint on the layer 
 of sand placed in a corner of the mortuary chamber. Nothing was 
 wanting in this receptacle of the dead, where an embalmed bull had 
 reposed for nearly forty centuries.' " 
 
 The doorway is already invaded by sand, and it is by slipping 
 between the wall and an enormous granite sarcophagus blocking up 
 the entry that they reach the principal corridor. The gigantic cofters, 
 hewn in single blocks of basalt or porphyry, or simply calcareous 
 stone, placed in these vaults roughly hollowed out of the virgin rock, 
 look like the colossal coffins of a race of giants. They explore the 
 vast subterranean galleries one after the other ; the magnesium light 
 of the guide sheds bright rays around. These sepulchral chambers, 
 these grand remains of a civilisation that has disappeared, deeply 
 afi'ect them; they leave quite oppressed, and return in silence to 
 Mariette's house. 
 
 On^sime, who had finished his siesta, was struck with the grave 
 expression on their faces. 
 
 " Well ! my poor Jacquot, we look very sad, very dejected. What 
 have the Apis done to you then, to give you both such a piteous 
 apjDearance ? Did they receive you badly, the rascals ? "
 
 THE SEEAPEUM. 
 
 277 
 
 " No, my dear Ondsime ; but one cannot contemplate without 
 emotion a place which for thousands of years was the object of the 
 
 lior of the Serapeum. 
 
 veneration of the entire world. One feels somewhat giddy|in the face 
 of the abyss of centuries which separates us from those who bnilt these 
 sacred dwellings. We are a little upset, that is all."
 
 278 THE LAND OF THE ' SPHINX. 
 
 " It's the past that rises in your throats and stifles you, gentlemen 
 sepulchre-hunters ! 
 
 " But why are you always thrusting yourselves among these 
 heggars of Pharaohs, and endeavouring to make their acquaintance 
 by force? Why torment by your presence, why persecute, on every 
 excuse, to the bottom of their funeral vaults, individuals who have 
 taken a dislike to you ? It's senseless ! 
 
 " Here are people who have made superhuman efforts to hide their 
 burial-places and to prevent profane hands from pulling their bones 
 about ; who have pushed precaution to the point of boring mountains 
 and of raising factitious ones for the purpose of concealing their coffins 
 there and sleeping their last sleep in peace. And your first care is to 
 go and trouble their tcte-cl-tete with death, to turn their tumuli topsy- 
 turvy, hunt them out in their dark holes, rummage in their affairs, 
 despoil them of their bandages, prig their jewellery, collect their 
 chaplets, thrust your noses into their prayer-books ; briefly, to pillage 
 them. But it's burglary ! A matter for the Court of Assizes : 
 violation of sepulchres, Article 360 of the Penal Code. Punishable 
 with imprisonment and hard labour. 
 
 " And, to crown all, when you have once thoroughly dislocated the 
 poor old bones of these good-natured, inoffensive mummies, who only 
 ask for silence and oblivion, you write all sorts of unheard-of things 
 about them, and indecently exhibit their shapeless remains under glass 
 cases in your museums, where they are the object of the brutal curiosity 
 and stupid comments of the crowd ! 
 
 " You will own that there is here matter for vexation, and that 
 one should not be angry with these unfortunate mummies for showing 
 a little ill-humour ? 
 
 " I cannot be accused of excessive tenderness for the Pharaohs. 
 Well, I feel overcome with pity when I see the ill-bred, off-hand way 
 in which what remains of them is treated. I've no grudge beyond the 
 tomb, I've not ! 
 
 " Look here ! The wisest thing, now that you've put all the 
 customers of this necropolis against you, is to be off at your quickest. 
 
 " Here, Hassan ! Ahmed ! Abdallah ! Hurry up ! Quick ! Put
 
 A BREAKNECK GALLOP TO BEDRASHEEN STATION. 279 
 
 on the saddles ! " thunders One'sime in a stentorian voice, striking 
 the palms of his hands together, after the Oriental fashion, to call the 
 donkey boys. 
 
 In a twist of the wrist the animals are saddled, bridled, and 
 brought to the foot of the steps of the verandah. 
 
 " And the pyramids of Dashour ? " exclaims Jacques. 
 
 " And the wells of the ibis mummies ? " 
 
 " It's a violent interference with us," says the first. 
 
 " A forcible abduction," chimes in the Doctor. 
 
 " It's anything you like," retorts Ondsime, who is not of their 
 mind. 
 
 He is hungry ; a good dinner awaits him ; they have just time to 
 catch the train, and shall not miss it. 
 
 " There's enough for to-day of your pyramids, hj^ogei, mastabas, 
 and the rest. I am dragging you out of your nightmare, tearing you 
 from the pursuit of folly. You do not intend, I suj^pose, for the un- 
 healthy pleasure of contemplating the layers of stones in a pyramid, or 
 of counting the feathers of a stujQfed ibis, to make us lose the train and 
 swallow a warmed-up dinner ? 
 
 " By dint of roaming in those cemeteries, rubbing against those 
 frightful tombs, you exhale a vague odour of corpse, you smell the 
 sepulchre." 
 
 " And yon the dinner." 
 
 " I have a delicate nasal organ, my friend, and not a depraved 
 sense of smell." 
 
 " Come, let us be ofi". Don't let's quarrel with your stomach." 
 
 Urging forward their donkeys, who for their part smell the stable, 
 they set out at full speed, raising a cloud of dust. " Gambetta " bolts, 
 "Telegraph" is worthy of his name, " De Lesseps " flies. Ou^sime, 
 borne along at a wild gallop, does not notice, in his hurry to get home, 
 Hassan's diabolical " Ah ! " who has picked up a jackal's thigh-bone 
 on the sly, and literally massacres " De Lesseps' " buttock with it. 
 They pass like lightning before the mastaba of El-Pharaoun and the 
 Step Pyramid, tear through Sakarah, laming fowls, dispersing flocks 
 of turkeys, putting all the village in commotion and the dogs at their
 
 280 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 heels, to Mitraliiueh ; the chikh-eu fly, the women scream out crazily, 
 everything gives way before them ; they dash in and out of Bedrasheen 
 at breakneck speed, and tumble into the station in time to precijntate 
 themselves into the train. At six o'clock they are at Cairo, in a cafe 
 of the Esbekieh, drowning the disagreeable perfumes of the past in 
 a social glass.
 
 The port of Old Cairo. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 K^radec leaves for Upper Egypt.— Jacques introduces him, on the steamer, to 
 Sir Hugh and Miss Madge.— The Doctor is disagreeably surprised to meet 
 Reptilius on board.— A trip to the Bazaars.— The Mouski, the Khan-el-Khalil, 
 the Nahassin, the Serougieh, the Souk-es-Sullah, EI-Ghourieh.— Along the 
 Khalig.— What remains of El-Asker and of El-Katai.— The legend of the 
 Tent of Amrou.— Xear the aqueduct.— Filthy feast.— Old Cairo.— Its port.— 
 With the Howling Dervishes.— Their Mosque.— An ebony-coloured maniac, 
 a fantastical Zikr.— In the Coptic town. — The Church of Sidi Miriam. — The 
 Mosque of Amrou. — The legend of Omar. 
 
 rr^HE Doctor, to the great grief of Abdallah, left for Thebes this 
 -^ morning. He had been kind enough to delay his journey for a 
 few days in order to pilot his friends about a little and accustom them 
 to the country ; but, notwithstanding mutual regret, he could not 
 postpone his departure any longer. So they are deprived of their 
 delightful cicerone and good friend. 
 
 Notwithstanding his dives into antiquity, his excursions on the 
 ocean of hypotheses, his habit of sinking the systems of his condisciples, 
 he rapidly rose to the surface, and hastened to reinvest himself with 
 the air of an agreeable person, to become once more an extremely 
 witty talker, a charming companion, a man of many parts. 
 
 He did not exhale that smell of mustiness and old folio volumes 
 
 281
 
 282 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 that the learned generally drag along with them. He chatted, he did 
 not pontificate. People knew a great deal after each conversation 
 with him without feeling that he was the professor giving the lesson. 
 He possessed peculiar talent for bringing into prominence the slight 
 baggage of which their knowledge was made up, and for allowing 
 his own prodigious erudition to pass unperceived ; so much so that 
 Onesime and Jacques were sometimes quite astonished that they knew 
 so much. 
 
 On the steamer they meet some of their acquaintances of the Scud 
 — Sir Hugh, his daughter, and Miss Priscilla — who were to stay two 
 months at Thebes. Jacques introduces the Doctor : as Sir Hugh is a 
 bit of an Egyptologist, and both are perfect gentlemen, they will get 
 on very well. 
 
 She is very pretty, Miss Madge, with her magnificent light hair, 
 jiiled up at the back of the head in heavy coils displaying a brown-gold 
 shade, and sheltering her temples and forehead, which are of exquisite 
 purity, with a silken network of rebellious tresses quivering in the 
 wind. You like her dark blue eyes under her beautiful nut-brown 
 brows. Her small teeth, well-set, regular, sparkle with whiteness 
 beneath her crimson and firmly outlined lips. Her nose is straight, 
 delicately modelled, her chin shaped with rare correctness, her neck 
 admirably proportioned. And over all what a splendid, warm, light 
 carnation tint, with amber tones ! She is tall, slim, elegant ; the waist 
 is supple ; the hand is beautiful ; the foot small, narrow, arched. 
 She walks very erect, with infinite grace and perfect ease. 
 
 " When an English girl makes up her mind to be pretty she cer- 
 tainly does not stop half-way," says Jacques. 
 
 " And when she decides on being ugly," answers Onesime in a 
 whisper, gazing at Miss Priscilla, " she goes to the extreme. It's all 
 one or all the other in England." 
 
 Some of Cook and Son's packages are also there ; they are going 
 to Thebes, probably to break off the tip of the ear of a colossus, and 
 to make a paperweight out of it on their return home. 
 
 Just as the steamer was about to leave, Reptilius, in a great hurry, 
 appeared on the quay, rushed on deck out of breath, and had some
 
 Court of an Arab house.
 
 A TKIP TO THE BAZAAES. 
 
 285 
 
 cases of a strange form placed in Ms cabin. Dr. Keradec turned 
 pale at the sight of him, and up to the last moment appeared 
 very pre-occupied. 
 
 There is something wrong 
 between them ; they reckon 
 each other up with severity ! 
 What on earth can it be ? : 
 
 A last pressure of tlie hand; 
 the steamer weighs anchor. 
 Jacques and Onesime are 
 alone; they feel they will miss 
 Keradec a great deal. 
 
 They return to the Esbekieh. 
 Onesime goes to the hotel ; 
 and while he is writing a few 
 letters, Jacques sets out for a 
 stroll in the Bazaars. 
 
 He first of all follows the 
 Mouski, that great artery 
 which cuts the Bazaar quarter 
 in two. The Mouski, the old 
 Frank quarter, is the only 
 street where the East mixes 
 so much with the West with- 
 out, however, being absorbed 
 by it. They live side by side; 
 they bow, speak in the morn- 
 ing on opening the shutters, 
 in the evening on closing 
 them. They offer each other 
 tea, cigarettes, during the day, 
 and there ends the connection. 
 
 Here one sees establishments of all countries, samples of all people, 
 who wrangle in all languages ; it is a regular Babel Street. There is 
 a dealer in French novelties, separated from an American dentist by the 

 
 286 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 little shop of an Arab barber; an Italian retailing vermouth with 
 
 , a German druggist for neighbour, 
 
 wlio chats with an Israelite money- 
 changer to whom he has let a corner 
 of his shop, and so on. 
 
 In the road, on the footpaths, a 
 compact crowd, a rolling flood of 
 folks always on the move, hailing 
 from all latitudes : Fellaheen, 
 Arabs, Nubians, Soudanese, Syrians, 
 Turks, Greeks, Italians, Spaniards, 
 Frenchmen, Englishmen, Germans, 
 Americans ; all jjossible races defile 
 there, all the colours of the rainbow 
 are displayed there. And among 
 this multitude are loaded camels, 
 people on horses, donkeys, mules, 
 A domesticated negro. victorias drawu by powerful steeds 
 
 at a trot, sayces driving the crowd 
 aside by blows from their sticks, 
 water-carriers, ambulant dealers, 
 soldiers — something of everybody; 
 with cries, hustling, and an in- 
 fernal noise. 
 
 From the Mouski, or rather 
 from the New Street, the continua- 
 tion of the Mouski, one turns to the 
 left down a small, narrow lane, 
 and comes into the midst of the 
 Bazaar of Khan Khalil, before a 
 high gateway striped alternately 
 white and red. 
 
 At the first glance one sees 
 nothing inside the gate ; the street is 
 terminated by a great black chasm,
 
 THE KHAN KHALIL. 
 
 287 
 
 which seems a hole in the enormous white wall 
 darker by the vigorous opposition of one 
 side of the gate, which is brightly lit up by 
 the sun. Little by little the eye recovers 
 from the shock produced by the sudden 
 transition from shade to light ; the place 
 becomes illuminated gently, slowly, by in- 
 sensible degrees, and one discovers in the 
 bluish penumbra of the immense arcade a 
 whole world of beings and things standing 
 out in a sort of light, filmy, transparent 
 vapour. 
 
 Beneath the arch, hooked on to the sides 
 of the walls, are diminutive shoj)s. From 
 the edge of the raised pentices hang frightful 
 many-coloured rags ; on the shelves are cojjper 
 utensils of all forms and sizes, coifee pots with 
 bewitching curves, little coffee pans with long 
 handles, perfume burners of rare elegance, 
 delicious ewers, and beside them two enor- 
 mous chandeliers 
 
 it is made still 
 
 Types in the Mouski 
 
 for mosques 
 
 All these things, 
 
 of red or yellow 
 
 copper, shine softly in the shade with 
 
 dying reflections of blue. 
 
 In the other shops more copper 
 utensils, but also other things : Persian 
 caskets, chiselled with an art and 
 patience that are astounding ; sabres 
 with handles of rhinoceros horn, the 
 flexible and tapering blades of which 
 rest in red velvet sheaths, with copper 
 mounts and chains ; lances ; Circassian 
 or Saracen steel armour inlaid with gold ;
 
 288 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 tables fashioned in the form of ogees, all covered with incrustations 
 of mother-of-pearl and ivory ; mosque lamps — in fact, something of 
 everything. 
 
 Inside the shop, against this background of arms and knick-knacks, 
 shining in semi-obscurity, a handsome old man, his 
 head wrapped in a turban as white as snow, in 
 a silk gown striped yellow and white, showing a 
 piece of waistcoat of apple-green colour, is squatted 
 on a rich Smyrna carpet before a doll's table made 
 of deal. With the aid of a punch and a small 
 hammer he draws marvellous arabesques, with sur- 
 prising dexterity, on a tray that has just left the 
 hands of the beater. 
 
 Beside him a beautiful child in a blue gown 
 polishes a pair of Mameluke i^istols. 
 
 At the angle of the street facing this gateway, 
 a dealer in old clothes is enjoying his narghileh and 
 playing a game at " namr " with a neighbour. 
 At the opposite angle another display of copper ; verses from the 
 Koran in green letters on a black ground hang in black frames against 
 the walls. The devout owner, curled up in a 
 corner of his den, has given way to the sweet- 
 ness of the comforting "kief" in which he 
 dreams of Mahomet's seven heavens. 
 
 This gate of the quarter gives access to 
 one of the principal thoroughfares of the 
 Bazaar ; a very compact crowd moves along 
 there. It is tolerably broad, very high, pro- 
 tected by a roof made of planks, reed mats, 
 trellis-work fashioned out of j^alm branches, 
 thrown on beams reaching from wall to wall. 
 The sun penetrates through a number of 
 openings, spreading out in a thousand rays. Manufacturers of pipe-stems. 
 presenting the effect of a forest of fiery spears thrust into the wall. In 
 places only the bare beams remain, and rare planks falling into decay 
 
 A -ivonian of Cairo.
 
 C . MQ h'^Sr^yiO- 
 
 m 
 
 Under a eate of the Khan-el-Khalil. 
 
 19
 
 THE KHAN-EL-KHALIL. 
 
 291 
 
 by age. The mats, made rotten bv the temperature of the air, have 
 disappeared, with the exception of a few shreds that dangle overhead. 
 Then one perceives the deep blue sky ; in the sky black kites, vultures, 
 hawks, describing circles, and, from time to time, a triangle of wild 
 geese, coming from the 
 north, pass by. The sun 
 bursts in through these 
 large openings, and on the 
 whitewashed walls streams 
 a sheet of dazzling light, 
 rudely intersected by lines 
 of shade from the beams. 
 
 The road is covered with 
 a thick layer of sand and 
 dust ; when it rains, it 
 becomes a marsh. 
 
 On either side shops 
 succeed shops in a double 
 line, broken here and there 
 by the great wall of a mined 
 mosque, the carved door of 
 a shrine, or part of a brick 
 wall, crumbling away at the 
 base, which threatens to 
 tumble down, gaping holes 
 hidden by partitions of dis- 
 jointed planks grey with 
 dust, floors that have fallen 
 in. 
 
 From time to time one passes beneath an arch with open double 
 doors, the folds of which, a foot in thickness, are plastered over with 
 a coating of filth, shining in the lower part where beggars have set 
 their backs, dull above : they are sheathed in sheets of copper 
 furnished with triple rows of nails. A cofl'ee-seller is installed 
 between them. A square niche hollowed out in the breadth of the 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 
 A merchant of lottery.
 
 292 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 masonry contains two or three cracked white cups and a saucer with 
 kimps of sugar. On a stove, made on the spur of the moment with 
 stones and a handful of plaster, sings a tin jug, and a tiny copper pan 
 full of Mocha is being kept warm in the cinders. 
 
 Sometimes, at the bottom of a turn-again alley, one perceives a 
 
 lofty building- of dressed stone, and 
 a monumental door, the aperture of 
 which is edged with interlaced orna- 
 mentation. A flap opens, and veiled 
 women enter, accompanied by their 
 slaves and bathing attendants. It 
 is a public bath ; it is a day reserved 
 to women. They make appointments 
 with each other there, burn perfumes, 
 aloes, and benjamin, send for singers, 
 and treat themselves to pastry and 
 sorbets. 
 
 A number of narrow dark irregu- 
 lar streets bear on this principal 
 thoroughfare. The buildings in 
 blocks of dressed calcareous stone 
 are very high ; the corbels of the 
 upper floors almost touch each other, 
 hardly j^ermittiug one to catch sight 
 of a gap of light or a square of 
 blue sky. 
 
 The street is full of people ; they 
 come from all sides : it is a continual 
 rolling wave, heaving, noisy, com- 
 posed of most different elements. 
 They hurry along, elbow each other, but not roughly, and show courtesy 
 full of good humour. 
 
 This crowd is far less disagreeable than a European one ; it is more 
 civil, less morose, and, above all, does not exhale those strong and 
 insufferable odours that are invariably emitted in gatherings of 
 
 An Arab begMrwoman.
 
 THE KHAN-EL-KHALIL. 
 
 293 
 
 Northern people. This peculiar immunity, enjoyed by Orientals, and 
 in which the great eating and drinking Northern races, under their 
 cloudy sky, in their damp atmosphere, do not participate, is the result, 
 among the children of the Prophet, of frequent baths, constant ablu- 
 tions, great sobriety, and of a splendid climate. 
 
 Bedouins, with hard physiognomies beneath their kouffiehs fastened 
 tight round their heads, their ample garments in camel's hair striped 
 white and yellow, walk slowly, erect, cold, impassive. Persians, with 
 their delicate, effeminate features, in 
 floating silk gowns, wearing high 
 astrakan caps on their heads, with their 
 painted faces, their dyed hair and beards, 
 apjjear like dolls beside these rough 
 children of the desert. Here it is an 
 Arnaut, proud in bearing, the ends of his 
 moustache twirled up in points, looking 
 magnificent in his crimson jacket 
 smothered with gold, with open floating 
 sleeves, also sprinkled with gold and 
 lined with pink silk, his skirt of well- ^pf-^ 
 ironed white muslin, embroidered gaiters, 
 with an arsenal of arms in his belt. He 
 makes the ugliness of a fat baboon-like 
 Turkish functionary, in tarboush and 
 stambouliue, whose spare nether garment 
 ill dissembles a pair of feet swollen with 
 
 fat, stand out very prominently. A sturdy Montenegrin, with arched 
 nose, eagle eyes, accentuated features, bargains for an inlaid pistol. 
 His eye sparkles strangely when he grasps the weapon in his dry, 
 brawny hands. Farther on, seated at the edge of an Algerine jeweller's 
 shop, a Maghrebin from Mequinez, white and pink, exquisitely clean, 
 wrapped in the folds of his white silk haifk, handles with his slender 
 fingers, with nails reddened by henna, massive bracelets manufactured 
 in the Djurjura. 
 
 Then there are negroes from the Soudan, of a deep, dull black, sly
 
 294 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Abyssinians, Nubians with long wavy hair, with a simple piece of 
 cloth round the loins, Arabs from Sinai in rags, their long guns on 
 their shoulders, fellaheen men, women, children, old men, beggars, 
 blind men, reciting a prayer through the nose, well-to-do townsfolk, 
 followed by their slaves, and lost in the floating folds of their long 
 pieces of black taffetas which they hold on their chests with both 
 
 hands, loaded with rings and bracelets, 
 displaying ostentatiously their heavy 
 feet encased in European boots. 
 
 Amidst this clamorous multitude 
 move sordid Jewish sarafs, water- 
 sellers with goat skins on their 
 shoulders, leathern aprons covering 
 their knees, striking their copper 
 goblets one against the other, 
 venerable imams on richly caparisoned 
 mules, whose gowns are kissed by the 
 people as they go by. Sometimes a 
 " saint," naked, filthy, appears ges- 
 ticulating, vociferating the name of 
 Allah, and the crowd opens before 
 him out of resi)ect, mingled, perhaps, 
 with a little disgust. 
 
 At moments the traffic is suddenly 
 blocked by a long string of camels, 
 which advance loaded with thick 
 jdeces of timber, rugged stone, or 
 enormous bales. They walk silently 
 in the dust, which deadens the sound 
 of their tread, with long strides and a horrible waving to and fro, 
 exhaling an insupportable odour. Their heavy and incommodious 
 cargoes, borne along in this oscillating movement, become regular 
 rams, striking right and left, breaking in everything before them. 
 Woe betide him who has not taken refuge in time in a shop, or 
 some sort of recess beyond reach of these terrible catapults ! The 
 
 A lady of Cairo.
 
 THE XAHASSDs. 
 
 295 
 
 furious pendulums manoeuvre without a pause, upsetting horsemen, 
 
 crushing them against the walls, jostling people on foot, overturning 
 
 piles of material, pounding pentices, tearing away sign1x>ards. And 
 
 the impassive beast continues its disastrous march to the end of 
 
 the Bazaar, indifferent to the dismay that it produces, to the damage 
 
 it causes, to the perturbation it brings always with it ; insensible to 
 
 the cries, to the maledictions, to the 
 
 blows of its victims. When these 
 
 frightful camels have passed the 
 
 disorder is repaired, and the street 
 
 resumes its usual appearance, until 
 
 the arrival of another caravan, which 
 
 will again put everything in contusion. 
 Just as Jacques was getting on 
 
 his donkey, which Ahmed had been 
 
 leading by the bridle behind him, he 
 
 found himself face to face with his 
 
 landlord and One'sime, who, as soon — ', 
 
 as he had got through his letters, had 
 
 come, under the guidance of the former, 
 to find him. 
 
 Their host took advantage of the 
 occasion to show them — a little too 
 rapidly, unfortunately — some other 
 quarters of the Bazaar. Crossing 
 that of El-Ghourieh, swarming with 
 shawls, cashmeres, cloths, muslins, 
 from all countries, they next inspected 
 the coppersmiths' gallery, the Xa- 
 hassin, a labyrinth of covered lanes, extremely dirty, horridly 
 narrow, where you can with difficulty walk two abreast. In the Souk- 
 es-Saeegh, goldsmiths, Copts for the most part, are squatting in their 
 miniature shops, near enormous safes with drawers full of jewels. 
 Some are fashioning gold and silver articles on very small anvils ; 
 others make necklaces and bracelets sparkle beneath the brilhant, 
 
 Types of the Bazaar.
 
 296 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 covetous eyes of a customer" seated at the edge of their store ; a third 
 
 exhibits finger aud earriugs iu gold. 
 
 Here they are at the Serougieh, among the saddlers, embroiderers, 
 
 shoemakers. 
 
 Two steps from there they turn a street corner, aud are in the 
 
 famous court of the 
 (^arpet Bazaar. It is 
 half covered with mats 
 and shreds of cloth ; 
 here, allowing a diffuse, 
 soft, tranquil light to 
 filter through ; there, 
 giving passage to a 
 l^owerful ray of the sun 
 falling firmly on the 
 scarlet ground of a 
 prayer carpet, which 
 glitters in the stream 
 of brightness. There 
 are jjiles of camel bags, 
 some of brilliant colour, 
 others of subdued tones ; 
 small mountains of 
 carpets come from all 
 parts of the East. These 
 velvety, silky ones, with 
 shades blended together, 
 come from Persia ; those 
 coarser ones, with many 
 
 stripes, from Rabat, Tunis, Kurdistan ; these long squares, with 
 
 grounds of garance or soft blue, which serve the disciples of the 
 
 Prophet in performing their devotions, have been woven at Smyrna 
 
 or Bokhara. 
 
 They leave this corner, so marvellously lit up with colour, with 
 
 regret, to go to Souk-es-Sullah, where all sorts of arms are glittering— 
 
 
 Babowche Baz:iar.
 
 Court of the Carpet Baz:iar.
 
 ALONG THE KHALIG. 
 
 299 
 
 bug gnus of the Berbers of Rif, with their stocks curled over, en- 
 veloped with leather, ornamented with ivory and copper nails, with 
 barrels enriched with numerous silver rings ; finely chiselled bronze 
 powder flasks from Persia ; pistols, blunderbusses, yataghans ; 
 quantities of arms, helmets, stirrups, spurs, incrusted with gold ; 
 something of everything up to the antique 
 blades of the Knights of the Crusades, to 
 which Arab handles have been adapted. 
 
 They return to the Mouski, then to 
 the hotel. After lunch Jacques leaves 
 On^sime at a cafe in the Esbekieh, where 
 he has commenced a series of interminable 
 games at dominoes. Ahmed assures him 
 that to-day there is a Zikr of 
 Howling Dervishes at Old Cairo. 
 They go to Old Cairo. 
 
 Instead of taking the Boulak 
 Avenue and that of Kasr-el-Nil, 
 they follow the banks of the 
 Khalig, which are much more 
 picturesque than the broad 
 straight streets of the Ismailieh 
 European quarter. 
 
 Here is a graceful Mosque, 
 half lost among the tamarisks and 
 sycamores, there a pretty Arab 
 fountain, farther on an enormous 
 fig tree in the dilapidated court- 
 yard of an old house, a group of 
 women filling goulahs, and another of men performing their ablutions. 
 A fellah handles a shadoaf, while a Berber consolidates with the hand 
 the sides of the small trenches that convey water over a bit of a garden 
 adjoining a hut of dried mud. A sakieh, manoeuvred by two bufi'aloes, 
 has been perched on the summit of a block of masonry which soaks in 
 the water. There, you see a house on piles, of which the corbelled 
 
 Fellah handling shadouf.
 
 300 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 windows, farnislied with mouckarabiehs, bulge out over the canal ; 
 through a trap door in the floor descends a pail to draw water from the 
 Khalig. 
 
 Through narrow, barred openings in high grey walls one perceives 
 the heads of women ; they smile, forgetting to hide their faces. 
 
 The bank is encumbered with bawling children, grovelling in the 
 mud, rolling with the dogs. 
 
 Voracious, bearded vultures, on the wing, catch the refuse, flung 
 out of the windows into the Canal, as it falls ; beneath them birds 
 pursue dragon flies. 
 
 Lizards with golden backs, silvery bellies, vsky-blue tails, run 
 along bits of old wall, overgrown with the brambles of abandoned 
 gardens, and great greyish rats, with long ringed tails, covered with 
 strong, stifi", prickly hair, run across the path at every moment. 
 
 On the wheel of an old sakieh out of use, disappearing amidst a 
 thick cluster of plants and shrubs, jerboas with hairy feet press 
 against each other as if in search of warmth, and give utterance to 
 little cries ; another, a solitary one, nibbles grain in the sun on a lump 
 of stone. 
 
 On reaching the Square, and in front of the Mosque of Seideh 
 Zeineb, they quit the banks of the Khalig, and follow a road ending at 
 a gate bearing the name of the Mosque. They are beyond the city. 
 
 They find the Canal again on their right, but what terrible 
 desolation on the left ! As far as the eye can see there is nothing but 
 a succession of mounds of ruins, the remains of the two towns which, 
 with Fostat, were built before Cairo— El-Asker, in 750 ; El-Katai, in 
 870. This last, the capital of the Toulounides, spreads around the 
 Mosque of Touloun. The destruction of these two places in the reign 
 of Mostansir-Billah merely preceded that of Fostat, which, in 1168, 
 was burned by the Saracens, in the fear that it might fall into the 
 hands of the Crusaders. It never rose from its ashes, and from then 
 Cairo, El-Kahirah, founded two hundred years previous by Gowher, a 
 general of El Moez, Fatimite Sultan of Maghreb, became the capital 
 of Egypt, and its houses grew up in proximity to the Mosque of 
 El-Azhar.
 
 THE LEGEND OF THE TENT OF AMEOU. 301 
 
 Every one lias heard of the les^end connected with the buildino- 
 of Fostat. Amrou, with the assistance of the Copts, who at the in- 
 stigation of the traitor Benjamin, Archbishop of Alexandria, had come 
 to swell the ranks of his army, had just beaten the Byzantine troops, 
 commanded by the Greek Makaukas ; had captured Fort Babylon, 
 where the remains of the vanquished forces were shut up, by assault ; 
 and, finally, had made terms with Makaukas, who had sought refuge 
 in the island of Rhoda, after his last defeat. 
 
 He then decided on marching on Alexandria, and gave orders to 
 strike his tent, erected near Fort Babylon ; but having learned that 
 a couple of pigeons had built their nest at the top of it, he forbade its 
 being touched, and set out to besiege Alexandria, which he captured 
 after a gallant resistance on the part of the inhabitants. 
 
 When he returned to Fort Babylon the tent was still standing. It 
 was then that he determined to erect round its site a new city, which 
 he called Fostat — the tent. 
 
 The aqueduct which brings water to the citadel divides these barren 
 mounds at a right angle with the road. The numerous birds of prey, 
 attracted by the pestilential smell of the slaughterhouses placed in the 
 midst of this arid steppe, render the aspect of the place still more 
 ominous. Mangy, hairless dogs fight over heaps of offal, quarrelling 
 with vultures, so gorged with food that they can hardly rise from the 
 ground, for a few shreds of filth. 
 
 Buzzards, kites, whirl round with piercing screams, awaiting the 
 moment to take part in the hideous feast. And such a horrible stench 
 is thrown off by this unclean banquet, that men hasten to reach the 
 head of the aqueduct, where the wind still brings them weak puffs of 
 the nauseous miasma. 
 
 Donkey boys and camel drivers, lying down amidst their animals 
 in the shade of an old sycamore, do not seem in the least affected by 
 this sickening breeze. They possess such an eclectic sense of smell ! 
 
 They reach the first houses of Old Cairo, Masr-el-Atikah, by an 
 avenue of tamarisks. They pass beneath low arches, alleys of trellis- 
 work overrun by vines ; here and there a block of stone, an overthrown 
 column, encumber the roadside. A thoroughfare on the right leads
 
 203 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 here to the bank of the narrow arm of the Nile, which separates the 
 island of Rhoda from the mainland. 
 
 A little farther beyond the view is admirable. From the bank, 
 where a number of small boats, canges, dahabiehs, barges, craft of 
 various sorts are fastened, the Nile extends in all its majesty for a 
 considerable distance towards the south. On the ojiposite 
 bank one j^erceives, behind a long curtain of dark palm 
 trees, the pink pyramids, standing out against the grey- 
 blue sky, and, in the near foreground, 
 thousands of yawls with white sails 
 ploughing the river under the influence 
 of a strong north wind. 
 
 It is the port of Old Cairo, very pic- 
 turesque, very active. Along the quays 
 are hewn stone, sacks of corn, 
 bundles of sugar-cane and 
 dourah ; the ground is sprinkled 
 with broken straw; everywhere 
 are planks, sleepers, staved-in 
 cases ; fastened to stakes stuck 
 in the mud are vessels un- 
 loading. Here, there are two 
 craft joined together by ropes 
 and a flooring of beams, heaped 
 up to the height of a first floor 
 with pottery. This cumbersome 
 cargo is maintained by a strong 
 net with large meshes, which 
 entirely covers it. There is 
 another double vessel containing a mountain of straw, a freight of 
 barley. Then there are dahabiehs from Assouan, with goods and 
 passengers from Nubia and the Soudan, a ferry passing between 
 Bedrasheen and Old Cairo, loaded enough to make the boat sink. 
 There is everything in this Noah's Ark — fellaheen men and women, 
 Bedouins, negroes, asses, camels, overwhelmed by the weight of their 
 
 Types of Old Cairo.
 
 WITH THE HOWLING DERVISHES. 
 
 303 
 
 bales, cases, cages of fowls, koufas of fruit. The people all grnmble, 
 and gesticulate in an inconceivable way. A reis squabbles with his 
 sailors, a fejlaheen woman quarrels with the ferryman, a camel that 
 has got its bales off its back and is dragging them behind by a cord 
 causes dismay on all sides, bellows frightfully, donkeys roll with their 
 saddles in the mud, and amidst this topsy-tnrvydom swarms of children 
 as naked as worms increase the clamour by their deafening yells. 
 
 They regain the principal thoroughfare, and finally, quite at the 
 end of the town, come to the Tehke of the dervishes at the Mosque. 
 
 A small low door gives access to 
 a spare garden. Rose trees in full 
 bloom entwine their branches over the 
 bowers made of reeds ; black currant 
 bushes, with yellow flowers, pome- 
 granates, rose-laurels, grow every- 
 where. One or two tamarisk trees 
 shade the courtyard, at the bottom of 
 which opens the very simple, very 
 dilapidated door of the Mosque. 
 
 In this courtyard a strange creature 
 gives himself up to contortions while 
 pronouncing the name of Allah. He 
 is a negro. His head almost dis- 
 appears beneath an immense white 
 turban surmounted by a yellowish 
 rag. He is as black as night, his 
 skin is shiny, his eyes sparkle 
 
 strangely, his large half-opened mouth permits of one seeing his 
 small teeth, which are remarkably white ; the expression of ferocity 
 and exaltation on his countenance is frightful to behold. On his 
 scarlet gown, embroidered with gold, hangs a scimitar enveloped in 
 linen ; a Morocco djellabah, with a large hood, all patched with odd 
 jiieces, covers his shoulders. He clasps in his hand a long flute, from 
 which he from time to time draws a sharp note. 
 
 At our approach his haggard eyes sparkle ; lie repeats with
 
 304 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 ferocious and paiiifnl volubility, that almost resembles a sigh, a phrase 
 iu which the name of Allah occurs constantly ; Ahmed kisses the hem 
 of his garment. He is mad, but quite inoffensive. Two dervishes 
 quietly say a few words to him, which have the effect of calming him, 
 
 
 ^ f 
 
 
 Panoply of arms in the Tikke of the dervishes. 
 
 and Jacques enters the Mosque, where he joins some other Europeans 
 who are penned up in an angle of the Imilding. A very polite Arab 
 offers him a straw-seated chair. 
 
 There are a dozen ladies and gentlemen. Some English ladies pull 
 out their notebooks, their diaries, and watch for their impressions as
 
 THE DERVISH MOSQUE. 
 
 805 
 
 they come, to carefully inscribe them tliere, rigorously, with the date, 
 the exact hour, according to a well-regulated chronometer, when this 
 important event took place. Some elderly parties are accompanied by 
 their dragomans, tall, strapping Syrians. They are full of attention 
 for their mistresses, who thank them with little movements of the 
 eyes that are indiscreetly significative. 
 
 The room is large, square, bare. At the angles plaster alveoli, 
 fashioned circularly in sloping gradations, con- 
 nect the plain parts with the curved ; a broad 
 frieze of a geometrical design serves as plinth to 
 the dome ; light comes from rectangular barred 
 windows placed above the frieze. 
 
 Before us, in a Gothic arch some feet deep, 
 arranged in the thickness of the wall, are hanging 
 pikes, axes, halberds, reaping-hooks, iron maces, 
 chains, pincers, spits, cutlasses — all the imple- 
 ments of a prison of the Inquisition. In the wall 
 on our left is sunk a semi-circular arched niche, 
 the mirhab, with interlaced work, ornamented 
 at the angles by two Doric columns. It may 
 measure four feet in breadth by eight feet in 
 height. Near the left column is a flowing green 
 flag, a corner of the material being secured by 
 a nail fixed in the wall ; on the other side are 
 displayed a series of squares of cardboard, on 
 which are written quotations from the Koran. 
 
 A dervish with fine, regular features stands 
 erect before the mirhab. He wears a tall, round 
 black sugar-loaf hat on his head, surrounded at the base by a turban 
 wound very tight, and is clothed in a long dark floating gown, very 
 full, open down the front. A second gown, underneath, of mauve 
 silk, shows, at the top, the points of his jacket of a tender blue ; 
 below it, the ends of his orange-coloured trousers. He grasps a 
 small flute in his elegant, well-taken-care-of hand ; from time to time 
 he carries it to his lips, produces from it a soft, ethereal note, and 
 
 20 
 
 <5^. 
 
 A dervish.
 
 306 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 indicates on the sjiot a giddj- turn of waltz, in a space no larger than a 
 crown piece. 
 
 Beside him the musicians tr}' their instruments. One is squatting 
 down, a darahouka between his legs ; another, standing, strikes with 
 his fingers on a sort of large flat drum ; a third is on his knees before 
 a tambourine, which he beats with a pair of small sticks rounded at the 
 ends ; the fourth, seated on a small form, blows in a clarionet or 
 hautbois. Behind these are three or four other musicians with 
 cymbals, viols, rebecks. 
 
 Around them, in a semi-circle, the arms falling at the sides, stand 
 
 some thirty howling dervishes in long 
 gowns of different colours, fastened 
 tight round the waist with a red silk 
 sash ; for head-gear green, white, 
 bright crimson turbans, fezzes, tar- 
 boushes, woollen or linen caps. Their 
 babouches are behind them on the 
 mats ; they have naked feet, and one 
 sees the bottoms of their trousers, that 
 descend to the ankle. Most of them 
 have hair of extraordinary length, dyed 
 with henna and falling to their knees. 
 They are of all ages. 
 At a signal from the chief, who turns slowly round with his arms 
 crossed on his breast, the musicians play a dull, strange, jDlaintively 
 modulated melody. The dervishes all uncover at the same moment, 
 and, bending the loins, balance themselves slowly at first, from front 
 to back, in one general movement, pronouncing in time at each jerk the 
 name of " Allah ! " Little by little the swinging motion is accelerated, 
 the voices are raised, the see-saw motion is accentuated still more, the 
 voices burst out. At intervals the shrill, sharp, piercing note of 
 the little flute is heard above the sound of this rumbling wave, starts 
 like an arrow, and seems to jDenetrate the flesh ; th^ cymbals ring- 
 amidst the hollow roll of the daraboukas. The oscillations become 
 precipitate, the voices hoarse ; then, finally, in the paroxysm of 
 
 Howlins' dervish.
 
 THE HOWLING DERVISHES 
 
 307 
 
 intense excitement produced by this music, the broken, wild rhythm 
 of which acts powerfully on their nerves, a prey to savage, delirious 
 exaltation, furious, white with foam, out of their wits, almost rattling, 
 
 v.',"-:r ./K.-. 
 
 Howling dervish. 
 
 they twist themselves in frightful contortions, and always with that 
 regulated, terrible, bewildering, all-together swing. Their bodies bend 
 fearfully ; their hair whips the air, sweeps the ground ; the voices yell
 
 308 THE LAND OF THE SrHINX. 
 
 the name of Allah in a scanned measure, a threatening roar, going 
 always crescendo. 
 
 The ladies with the pocket-books have found the performance 
 shocking and the howling dervishes disgusting, which does not j^revent 
 one of them, on leaving, from dexterously taking a pair of scissors 
 from her pocket and cutting a lock from the mane of one of the 
 dervishes on the sly — a souvenir, to corroborate the impressions. 
 The ladies with the dragomans have almost fainted in the arms of 
 their Mamelukes. They depart, very much affected, very red, sup- 
 ported by these handsome men, strij)ed from head to foot with 
 gold lace. 
 
 The company walk in the little garden. Dervishes are seated 
 beneath the trellis-work smoking cigarettes, drinking tea ; they oflPer 
 some to the visitors. Those of the zikr are not long in making their 
 appearance. They are calm, smiling ; not a single drop of perspiration 
 falls from their bronzed faces ; their hands do not tremble ; the 
 breathing is regular, the voice clear ; they are in perfect possession of 
 their faculties. One can hardly realise it after their violent gymnastic 
 exercise of a little while ago. 
 
 At the moment of leaving, Jacques thanks the chief of the 
 dervishes, who, with the grand manners of people of his race, offers 
 him a delicious cup of Persian tea, perfumed with peppermint, in a 
 crystal cup. He is exquisitely polite, even refined. He escorts Jacques 
 to his donkey, gives him a final and very courteous greeting, crossing 
 his two hands on his chest ; and Jacques, with his donkey and donkey 
 boy, makes his way towards the Mosque of Amrou. 
 
 Ahmed points out to him, on their left, a block of houses, sur- 
 rounded by high walls pierced by gates. It is the old Coptic town, 
 and the fortifications enclosing it are those of ancient Babylon, the 
 fortress where Rameses II. detained his Assyrian captives, where 
 the Roman legion entrusted with the duty of holding Egypt under 
 the domination of the Caesars was garrisoned. 
 
 They advance towards one of the entrances of this refuge of 
 Egyptians who have remained Christians. The gate is more than 
 a foot thick. It is a rampart rolling on hinges. The streets are
 
 THE COPTIC TOWN AND CHURCH. 309 
 
 singularly narrow, damp, dark, and repulsively dirty. The light 
 hardly passes through these lofty walls, which almost touch each 
 other. They are bored with barred openings in the form of loopholes. 
 Disjointed moucharabiehs hang threatening above your head; vou 
 dabble in nauseous pools, slip over putrefying offal ; you burst the 
 expanded bellies of dead cats with a tread, and horrible stenches 
 exhale from this uncleanness. 
 
 It is with difficulty that one is able to make a way among the 
 ragged children eaten up with vermin, with bad eyes, and a complexion 
 the colour of lead. They follow you, rub against you, slip between 
 your legs, touch your clothes with an over-hasty movement, eagerly 
 feeling your pockets. 
 
 Tall, thin, veiled women, with hard features, foreheads tattooed 
 with a blue cross, eyebrows blackened with koheul, lean against the 
 wall with the stiffness of statues to allow you to pass, the eyes fixed, 
 the hands extended. Old, sordid men, with black or blue turbans, 
 exhibit repulsive ulcers to excite compassion. From all these rises a 
 vile, stuffy smell that makes you feel sick. One hastens to escape 
 from such ambient corruption. 
 
 After ten minutes' walk in a labyrinth of streets, an inextricable 
 entanglement of courts, crossways, blind alleys, they pass under some 
 arches, and halt before a barrier of disjointed planks — the entrance to 
 the Coptic church of the Virgin Mary, Sidi Miriam, and the guardian 
 shows them in. 
 
 It is lugubrious, black, dirty. Partitions in tolerably well- worked 
 wooden mosaic separate the three naves, formed by a double row of 
 columns, from the edifice, built in a basilic form. Niches in the walls, 
 incrustations of mother-of-pearl and ivory on the woodwork, polished 
 by time and the backs of the faithful, heads of apostles painted on 
 a gold ground, in the Byzantine style, Greek crosses, and that is all, 
 with a close, sharp, dry, penetrating smell and the vile uncleanliness 
 that is general. 
 
 Jacques gives the hoab a few piastres, and they get out of this 
 mellah quickly, followed by the clamonr of the inhabitants demanding 
 baksheesh.
 
 310 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 At last they are in the open air ; they breathe, and soon come 
 before the Mosque of Amroii, the Gam-'a-Amr, the first mosque built 
 by the Arabs in Egypt in the year 21 of the Hegira. It is the most 
 complete type of Arab art at its origin, the most faithful representa- 
 tion of the primitive mosque. 
 
 From the outside, this square, grey, powdery mass, flanked by 
 its two minarets ending in points, having only one gallery, is im- 
 posing in its simplicity. 
 
 A door in the form of a trefoil leaf, surmounted by an ogival 
 window, opens under one of the minarets into a first court. When 
 you enter the second immense court, surrounded by its galleries, 
 its forests of columns, you feel penetrated by the magnitude of the 
 conception which presided at the erection of this monument of the 
 piety of the first believers, and very much struck by the great 
 silence, the absolute solitude, that reigns here. 
 
 The colonnades, with three rows of pillars on the north and 
 south sides, are half in ruin, and on the west there remains only 
 one arcade. The sanctuary is against the facade, turned towards 
 the east, facing Mecca. These interminable straight lines, through 
 which an attenuated light sports with efi'ects of shade and brightness 
 of an harmonious soft grey, produce within you a singular sensation 
 of calm, repose, reflection. 
 
 All these columns of a single piece of granite, of marble or 
 porphyry, of different sizes and forms, were torn from the Greek 
 and Roman temples of Heliopolis and Memphis, and set up in- 
 differently as to style. A Corinthian capital faces an Ionic volute, 
 a composite one adjoins a Doric ; some of the columns have even 
 been placed head downwards, the capital serving as a base ; others, 
 too short, have been raised by a stone socle. An entire scaffolding 
 of beams, fixed in between the stones of the arches, serves to maintain 
 this multitude of pillars. 
 
 Ahmed conducts Jacques to the middle of the sanctuary, near 
 the mirhab and mimbar, in carved wood, where stands the famous 
 column bearing a white vein, which passes for being the mark of 
 the courbash of the Khalif Omar.
 
 Mu^'^uo lI A:,
 
 THE LEGEND OF OMAR. 313 
 
 This, according- to tradition, is how the thing happened. The 
 Khalif Omar was reciting his evening prayer at Mecca. When he 
 had ended, his thoughts went to Amron, who was buildino- the 
 Mosqne by his orders. He gazed in the direction of Cairo, and per- 
 ceived that one of the piUars just set up in the edifice was wanting 
 in stability and badly dressed. The Commander of the Faithful 
 immediately ordered a column lying at his feet to go to Fostat. It 
 trembled, but did not quit the ground ; at the second injunction it 
 slightly oscillated, without, however, making up its mind to leave. 
 The Khalif, irritated, struck it with his courbash, exclaiming : " In 
 the name of the all-powerful and merciful God, go ! " This time 
 the obedient column moved, and, launching into space, came and 
 stood in the place of the defective pillar. 
 
 In the sanctuary Ahmed also shows the columns of the ordeal — 
 a magnificent pair standing pretty close together. He passes between 
 the two shafts with tolerable ease, and urges Jacques to follow his 
 example. The latter hesitates to make the trial, for while he does 
 not possess the circular amplitude of Onesime, he has not the thin 
 spine of a house-top cat like Ahmed. It appears that it is only 
 true Believers who can undergo the ordeal victoriously. If such be 
 the case, there must be a multitude of lean people in Mahomet's 
 Paradise. 
 
 In the south-east angle of the Mosque rests the body of Amrou 
 in a rectangular stone tomb, beneath a pointed top, supported by 
 small slender columns. 
 
 In the centre of the immense bare court one jjerceives, like an 
 oasis in the desert, the fountain for ablutions, quite diminutive, 
 with its palm tree and cluster of acacias, 
 
 Ahmed endeavours to make Jacques understand, with a great 
 many gestures and a few French words, that this fountain commimi- 
 cates with the Zem-Zem well at Mecca. As a proof in sujjport 
 of it, he assures him, by the beard of the Prophet, that pilgrims 
 from Cairo having, one day, while on a pilgrimage to the Holy City, 
 let fall a chaplet in the said well, found it on their return in the 
 fountain for ablutions of the Mosque of Amrou.
 
 314 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Jacques gives Ahmed to understand that he is quite of his opinion, 
 that it is beginning to get late, and that if they wish to get back 
 before night they have no time to lose. Then, digging with his 
 heels on both sides, he returns to Cairo by the Gate of El Karafeh, 
 the Mahomet Ali Square and Boulevard, and reaches the Esbekieh 
 just as the caf(5s are being lit up for the evening.
 
 Tombs of the Mamelukes. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY 
 
 The Bazaars again, — The way On^sime operates. — The munstan of Kalaoun and his 
 Mosque. — That of Nas'r-Mohammed. — Round about the Mosques. — The per- 
 fumery bazaar. — An old quarter. — The tombs of the Mamelukes. — El-Achraf- 
 Ynal. — El-Ghouri. — El-Barkouk. — El-Achraf-Barsebai. — Kait-Bey. — The 
 Mosque of El-Azhar. — The Boulak Avenue. — The snake charmer. — The animal 
 showman. — The Boulak Museum. — The rooms in the Museum. — The mummies 
 of Deir-el-Behari. — Fabulous antiquity of the Egyptians. — The Boulak Port. 
 — The island of Ghezireh. — The Ghezireh drive. — They leave for Upper Egypt. 
 
 DURING the two weeks that have passed since the Doctor left, 
 Jacques and Onesime have done nothing but trot from one to 
 the other of the four cardinal corners of Cairo. They think each time 
 that they have seen everything, and every day discover something new 
 that requires their attention. 
 
 Their favourite promenade is the Bazaar. Every one knows them 
 there ; they are welcomed with affable politeness and many bows ; are 
 offered innumerable cups of tea, and shown wonderful things. First of 
 all, they are asked exaggerated sums ; it is the custom, and they are 
 caught like every one else. It is a sort of tax levied on ingenuousness, 
 the first surprise of the newly disembarked. But, little by little, they 
 discuss, bargain, the pretensions are lowered, and now they pay reason- 
 able prices, about the same as those of 'the country. 
 
 315
 
 316 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 Onesime has a wonderfnlh' smart way of doing business to the seller's 
 advantage. On the other hand, Jacques, ever since he was so outrage- 
 ously robbed in a transaction at the commencement, will not hear of any 
 more bargaining. This is very humiliating for his companion, but so 
 it is. He gossips for hours with the dealers, who all understand a few 
 words of French, offers them cigarettes, inquires after their family, gives 
 
 them some advice ou matters of 
 hygiene, instils his good humour 
 into them, and dazzles them with 
 his superb verbosity. Finally, 
 he proves to them, what they 
 know already very well, that 
 their goods are frightfully over- 
 priced, places in their hands the 
 third of the sum asked for, 
 gravely takes possession of the 
 purchased article, hands it to 
 Hassan, who promptly slips it 
 into his leather bag, and con- 
 tinues the conversation unmoved, 
 deaf to the protests of the vendor. 
 The dealers are naturally a little 
 surprised at this off-hand way of 
 ending the difference ; but the 
 purchaser, as a matter of fact, has 
 at least given the value of the 
 article, and as they are good 
 customers, there is laughter on 
 both sides, and the matter is settled pleasantly. 
 
 This morning they are taking their usual turn in the Bazaar, and are 
 going to pay a visit to the mosque and moristan of Kalaoun and Nas'r 
 Mohammed. 
 
 This group of monuments in the midst of Khan-el-Khalil is most 
 picturesque. From the exterior the mosque looks very pretty, with its 
 lofty walls striped red and white, surmounted by its imposing minaret, 
 
 Door of the Mosque of Kalaoun.
 
 A street of the Bazaar.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF KALAOUN. 
 
 319 
 
 rather bulky, with superposed terraces, square at the base with an 
 octagonal terrace, and ending by a cylindric drum with a circular 
 gallery. The bewitching arabesques of the drum, the delicacy of the 
 elegant open sculpture of the balconies, atone for the rather heavy 
 aspect of the building as a" whole. A display of charming ideas, 
 arranged with undoubted 
 taste, affords ample com- 
 pensation for the irregularity 
 in the plan of the edifice. 
 
 You enter by a high door 
 giving access to both the 
 mosque and the hospital. 
 
 The mosque is decorated 
 with more extravagance 
 than art. An octagonal 
 canopy, supported by slender 
 marble columns, covers the 
 old Sultan's body. Finely 
 carved wooden railings sur- 
 round the tomb. Visits are 
 paid to the relics of Kalaoun: 
 his turban which heals head- 
 aches, his silk kaftan which 
 drives away fevers, his 
 leathern belt which brings 
 back luck to the penniless. 
 Women come to ask him 
 for male children ; mothers 
 bring their babes in order 
 that they may speak early. 
 
 On leaving, under the arcades, groups of fellaheen men and women 
 and Arabs argue in a lively way with lawyers ; a public writer, installed 
 on the shaft of an overturned column, seems very busy with the clients 
 .surrounding him. 
 
 The hospital, the moristan, situated behind the mosque and tomb, 
 
 J 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 i^ 
 
 ^^^^7 ^jpm;«^^H 
 
 
 
 ' fr 
 
 ._..J 
 
 ^f 
 
 ^pU"' 
 
 
 A iniblic writer.
 
 320 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 is connected with these buildings. They do not enter it : the place is 
 very well conducted, they are told, and has accommodation for about a 
 hundred i)atients. Lunatics were also shut up there at one time in 
 rooms set apart : they have now a special house at Boulak. 
 
 The streets bordering on the mosque are very much frequented and 
 encumbered by ambulant dealers. Here a country woman is squatting 
 down between a cage of fowls and a basket of eggs ; there is an old 
 
 Jew, who is seated on a boundary 
 stone, a bundle of sticks on his 
 knees ; farther on a Syrian, his 
 head wrapped up in a coloured 
 handkerchief, is selling a moja ; 
 there is a cake-seller in a blue 
 gown, or a confectioner with his 
 urchin customers weighino- out a 
 few ounces of nougat. An 
 auctioneer, bowed down beneath 
 the weight of garments and things 
 of all sorts, moves about with his 
 eyes and ears on the alert : he 
 almost disappears under his goods. 
 With three or four rugs on his 
 head ; a piece of clothing rolled 
 round his neck ; carpets, jackets^ 
 embroidered stuffs, on his arms ; 
 chains, bracelets, pistols, in his 
 hands, he accosts you, follows you 
 for whole hours, leaves you for another customer, rejoins you, begs, 
 insists, asks exorbitant prices, reduces them a little, more still, and 
 ends, while laughing, gesticulating, bawling as loud as he jjossibly can, 
 by selling you something, and often at a moderate price. Groups of 
 Bedouins walk along indifferently, carrying antelopes' and rams' horns 
 on their shoulders, which hook you as they j^ass. 
 
 At the perfumery bazaar, near here, women, seated on a form 
 before a shop, talk a great deal, purchase little, and gaze eagerly when 
 
 
 The perfumery bazaar.
 
 Tombs of the Mamelukes. 
 
 21
 
 THE TOMBS OF THE MAMELUKES. 323 
 
 a European of the fair sex happens to come along. The shopkeepers, 
 almost all Persians, the eyes enlarged by antimony, the heard soft and 
 carefully combed and trimmed, attired in silk gowns, with pointed hats 
 on their heads, perfumed, obsequious, are smoking cigarettes, extended 
 on soft carpets. 
 
 Beside the moristan rises the mosque containing the tomb of 
 Nas'r Mohammed, sou of Kalaouu. Its elegant gateway, of a Gothic 
 aspect, is remarkable ; the harmonious lines of its minaret, covered 
 with arabesques, surrounded by well-sculptured galleries, stand out in 
 bold profile of a fine mould. 
 
 The two friends leave the Bazaar to visit the Necropolis of Kait- 
 Bey, commonly, but improperly, termed the tombs of the Khalifs. 
 
 The real site of the sepulchre of the Eyoubite Khalifs, independent 
 sovereigns of Egypt from the ninth to the twelfth century, was rather 
 where the Khan Khalil now stands. When the Bazaar was built 
 under the Baharite Mamelukes, the tombs and the remains they 
 covered were carried outside the city, and thrown pell-mell amongst 
 the ruins. An exception was made for that of Es-Salah-Eyoub, the 
 last sovereign but one of the Eyoubite dynasty. His son was assassi- 
 nated by the chief of his guard, El-Moez, the founder of the family of 
 the Baharite Mamelukes. 
 
 To get to the Necropolis, Jacques and On^sime follow the zigzag 
 of very narrow streets, excessively peopled, of a (quarter that has 
 preserved all its physiognomy of other times almost intact. There are 
 delicately sculptured gateways, very well preserved moucharabiehs dis- 
 playing charming fancy, corbels supported by beams worked with perfect 
 art, the edges of which are as sharp and neat as if they had just left 
 the hands of the sculptor, and a large stirring, active, gay population. 
 
 One never tires of admiring the expressive features of these 
 bronzed, energetic, meek, dreamy, and never vulgar heads — or con- 
 templating the light gait, the easy movements, the assured step, of 
 these figures full of irresistible charm. 
 
 The desert commences at the Gate of El-Nas'r. After a short 
 laborious walk in the sand, where the asses sink in noiselessly to the 
 middle of the legs, they are in the Necropolis of Kait-Bey.
 
 324 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 The impression felt at the grandiose spectacle of these rows of 
 mosques, these tombs full of harmonious lines, with ornaments of 
 exquisite delicacy, elegant minarets, cupolas of so pure a curve, is 
 indelible; and when the setting sun illuminates these marvels of 
 architecture by a final beam, the lofty walls glitter with tones of purple 
 and gold, the slender minarets are lit up, the angles of their balconies 
 
 catch the light that glides 
 along the sculpture, accentuat- 
 ing the reliefs, deepening the 
 shades, and the cupolas, 
 beneath the network of their 
 lace arabesques, sparkle with 
 a myriad of flashes. 
 
 In face of the splendour of 
 these ruins, crumbling slowly 
 beneath the action of centuries 
 and the carelessness of man, 
 amidst the incomprehensible in- 
 difference of the descendants of 
 those who built them, one feels 
 an unutterable melancholy. 
 
 Ouesime himself, who is not 
 very easily moved, is slightly 
 touched, no doubt out of 
 sympathy for his friends the 
 Sultans. 
 
 " I do not know," he 
 remarks to Jacques, "but in 
 contemplating these masterpieces which are hopelessly lost, I feel 
 something undefinable like sadness." 
 
 " We are in mourning for these monuments, the ruin of which is 
 near at hand." 
 
 " As one weeps beforehand for a friend whom the doctors have 
 given over — isn't it so ? " 
 " Somethino^ like that." 
 
 The Gate of El-Nas'r.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF EL-BAEKOUK. 325 
 
 " Bah I After all, the responsibility rests with the Arabs." 
 
 " With the Arabs ! " says Jacques, shrugging his shoulders ; " why, 
 they are children, the Arabs, and consequently irresponsible, and it is 
 to us that belongs the duty of elevating this race." 
 
 " Its monuments first of all ; for if we do not very soon o-ive these 
 poor old things crutches, they will not last very long," answers 
 Onesime, " and that is the effect of the stick on the backbone of a 
 nation— it softens it. Ah ! those beggarly Pharaohs, those inventors 
 of the stick and the way to use it, as our dear Doctor pretends that 
 they invented everything, if I had hold of them " 
 
 Pending the moment when Onesime would get hold of the 
 Pharaohs, the friends continue across the Necropolis. On the way 
 Onesime stops before the Mosque of El-Achraf-Ynal, attached to that 
 of El-Ghouri by a long wall broken up by openings ; its pretty minaret 
 in floors and graceful cupola have bewitched him. 
 
 Here they are facing the vast and splendid Mosque of El-Barkouk, 
 the glorious Sultan who, on two occasions, stopped the Mogul Timour- 
 Leng in his victorious march. The opposition between the severe lines 
 of its lofty walls, with layers of red and white stone, crowned by 
 loopholes in the form of the trefoil leaf, and the elegant silhouettes of 
 its two minarets of diiferent form built up in floors, joined one to the 
 other by intelligently combined corbels, has a most happy effect. 
 
 The court, fall of rubbish, plants, brambles, with its fountain for 
 ablutions in ruins in the centre, presents a grand aspect with its 
 surrounding of porticoes. Those on the west form two rows of galleries, 
 those on the north and south only one, and those of the sanctuary on 
 the east three, with six pillars each. The mimbar, in deliciously-cut 
 stone, is a marvel. 
 
 The room where the tomb is has the lower part of its walls covered 
 with marble ; it contains the stone mausoleum, very simple, surrounded 
 by a delicately worked balustrade of wood. The angles are connected 
 with the curved parts by pendentives, which slope up in stages to join 
 the base of the roof. The dome has a charming eflect, with its windows 
 flanked by ornaments, its interlaced work, its bands of Cufic letters. 
 
 They pass by the half-ruined Mosque of El-Achraf-Barsebai without
 
 326 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 entering ; its minaret, devoid of any ornament, has little interest, but 
 its cupola is very pretty, and sculptured with great refinement. 
 
 A moment afterwards they find themselves in a poor dilapidated 
 village with low mud houses. Along the street are a few shops with 
 rags hanging from their pentices, and orange-sellers ; in the square 
 camels lying down, asses, tattered children, old men seated on a form 
 of dried earth, the frontage of a low coff'ee-house, and facing them the 
 Mosque of Kait-Bey commanding all the village. It is with difficulty 
 that from the narrow square one tries to get a general view of the 
 monument, which is surrounded by hideous buildings, and so to form 
 an idea of the beauty of its proportions. 
 
 Its graceful cupola is charming, with the relief of its network of 
 arabesques; and its minaret, shooting up with its projections, its offsets, 
 its endless embroidery on stone, its balconies, has a boldness, a purity 
 of line, that are surprising. 
 
 A staircase with disjointed steps leads to a high door, which recalls, 
 on a small scale, that of the Mosque of Sultan Hassan. The interior 
 court, open to the elements, is all paved with marble mosaics, and 
 conamunicates with the sanctuary, a step higher, by a beautiful horse- 
 shoe arch. The ceiling of the sanctuary is carved, painted, and gilded 
 wood, in exquisite taste ; the rose-windows are cut in the massive 
 stone in rare perfection. But all this is falling in ruins, is crumbling 
 away bit by bit, like everything in the East. 
 
 On their return to the square, Onesime sends Ahmed and Hassan 
 to fetch cofi'ee, which is drunk without quitting the stirrups, and they 
 re-enter Cairo at the fall of night by the Gate of El-Ghoraib. 
 
 The next morning they are strolling again in the Bazaar. They 
 go there quite naturally, by instinct, as a clerk goes to his office. 
 They exchange politenesses with their acquaintances, majestic old men, 
 very cunning, in pink, lemon-coloured, or pistachio-green silk gowns ; 
 or filthy, shrewd, wily Jews : they absorb a number of cups of tea and 
 cofi'ee. Ondsime does business. 
 
 They are now going to visit the Mosque of El-Azhar, " the 
 splendid " ; one of their friends in the cloth bazaar has ofiered to take 
 them there.
 
 Tomb of Kait-Bey.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF EL-AZHAB. 
 
 329 
 
 Originally founded by Gowher-el-Kaid, the general of the Fatimite 
 Sultan of Maghreb, El-Moez, in the year 970, it was later on rebuilt and 
 successively increased in size at different periods by the Sultans 
 Bibars, Kait-Bey, and El-Ghouri. It has always preserved the 
 double character of a 
 mosque and university, 
 which it possessed from its 
 foundation, when the Khalif 
 Aziz - Billah endowed a 
 college there. The reputa- 
 tion of its schools, directed 
 by the most celebrated 
 doctors in theology and 
 Mussulman law, was 
 universal, and even now 
 students flock to it from 
 all parts of the world. 
 
 It is here that they still 
 warm up the fanaticism of 
 the neophytes to white 
 heat ; here that the pass- 
 word is received by the 
 chiefs of certain sects, who 
 then disperse among all 
 the convents, the zaouias 
 of the Mussulman world, 
 the affiliated of which — 
 the merhouts — by their in- 
 flamed preaching excite 
 the populations, and pro- 
 voke those constant religious risings, so terribly repressed by the 
 ruling Powers. 
 
 They soon perceive the minarets of the mosque, and a narrow street 
 brings them to the principal door, recently restored. Their guide 
 enters first of all, and returns a few moments afterwards with a sheikh, 
 
 t El-Azhur.
 
 330 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 whose presence will spare them a host of difficulties : after au exchange 
 of greetings, they follow him. 
 
 Two sanctuaries open on either side of the entrance passage, which 
 leads to a first and very small court, where the students, squatting down 
 on mats, are being shaved. From there they pass into the grand court, 
 
 surrounded by colonnades, sup- 
 porting lofty brick walls covered 
 with a coating of stucco. The 
 sanctuary is imposing, with its 
 thousands of columns of granite, 
 marble, porphyry, of Greek or 
 Roman origin, and its innumer- 
 able lamps. 
 
 The porticoes on the north 
 and south serve as schoolrooms 
 for the pupils ; partitions of 
 wooden bars separate the 
 groups of different nationalities 
 in quarters, rouags, having each 
 their superintendent, the naghevy 
 and their professors under the 
 high direction of a head -master. 
 All the nations, all the races 
 of Islam, are represented here: 
 Turks, Persians, Kurds, Hin- 
 doos, Syrians, Arabs from 
 Hedjaz, Maghrebins, Algerines, 
 Tripolitans, Nubians, negroes from the Soudan and Kordofan. 
 
 They are all here : those of the north and those of the extreme 
 south, those of the west and those of the east ; the Ottomans of 
 Stamboul, the blacks of the Sahara, the inhabitants of Maghreb-el- 
 Aksa, and Hindoos from the banks of the Ganges. Turks, Mongols, 
 negroes, Hindoos, white, yellow, black, red, they have all forgotten 
 their country, their difference of origin, their special character, their 
 peculiar affinities. 
 
 An Uleiua of Bl-Azhar.
 
 THE MOSQUE OF EL-AZHAR. 331 
 
 Maintained by the Koran in a formidable cohesion, trained 
 by stern discipline, subjected to inflaming jjractices, they form but 
 one nation — a threatening fanaticised army, always ready to rush 
 upon Europe at the voice of a Mahdi, or a Moslem impostor of 
 any sort. 
 
 Grouped by quarters, they come to follow the classes, listen to the 
 lessons of the learned Ulemas, commenting on the Koran, teachino- it 
 according to the four rites— malekite, chafeite, hanafite, and hanhibite 
 —practised in Eg}^t, explaining the laws of the Prophet. Boarded 
 at the mosques, they also receive a slight monthly allowance and oil 
 for the lamps. Gathered together in circles, holding their tablets in 
 their hands, lying or sitting on the mats that cover the ground, they 
 learn aloud by heart verses of the Koran, which they recite in a 
 drawling and monotonous tone, with that strange swinging of the 
 body that is peculiar to Orientals. Others listen attentively to the 
 explanations of a doctor in theology or a professor of law who has his 
 back to a column. This one, on his knees, turns over the pages of a 
 huge book placed on a stand. Others, rolled up in blankets, are 
 extended on the ground half asleep. One is deafened by the immense 
 himi of all these voices dissolving into one unique, dull, intense, 
 incessant clamour — made giddy by the perpetual oscillations of these 
 thousands of turbans. 
 
 They look at the new-comers, murmur a few words that the latter 
 do not understand — no doubt a malediction upon these dogs of 
 Christians, which their guides repeat in petto ; but the party move 
 about without difficulty. 
 
 The sheikh then conducts them to Zawyet-el-Onmidn, the Chapel 
 of the Blind. A special fund, taken from pious legacies, is set apart 
 to keep these unfortunates, who also follow the classes of the school, 
 and are not the least fanatical among the pupils. 
 
 Between the lessons the students unite in groups, converse with 
 visitors, receive their relatives, nibble a cake of doura or a tart. One 
 purchases an orange, another a lot of figs, a handful of dates, of a 
 strolling dealer, who will retire when the classes recommence. Water- 
 sellers make their copper goblets ring.
 
 332 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 The Mosque of El-Azbar was the last refuge of those in revolt on 
 the occasion of the insurrection in Cairo against Bonaparte, two months 
 after the city was captured. Having barricaded all the issues, they 
 obstinately continued the struggle. Batteries placed on Mokattam 
 swept them down ; they refused to surrender. At length the 
 grenadiers, having surrounded the mosque and opened fire against it, 
 the rebels, taken between two attacks, fearing to be buried beneath the 
 ruins of the building, already shaken by the cannon-balls, surrendered 
 a.t discretion to the " Sultan of the cannonade." 
 
 The sheikh reconducts them to the door with a number of 
 salaamliks. Onesime bows to him in Oriental fashion, like a real 
 son of Islam ; Jacques thanks him as well as he is able ; and they 
 leave him to his studies and his pupils. At the Bazaar their cicerone 
 offers them a cup of tea in his shop. They purchase some knick-knacks 
 of him, and return to the Esbekieh. 
 
 After a rapid snack, Jacques leaves Onesime, who has a revenge to 
 take at billiards, and sets out for Boulak with Ahmed. 
 
 The avenue which leads there is very much frequented. There is 
 a great traffic of carriages, horsemen, persons on foot, porters, asses, 
 camels. The thoroughfare is broad, has plenty of air ; but one is 
 blinded by the dust. They soon reach the Khedive's stables, turn to 
 the left to go to the Museum, and are at Boulak. Crossing the streets 
 of this suburb, they think of the terrible resistance that its inhabitants 
 in revolt maintained there against Kleber, a struggle in which his 
 soldiers had to take each house by assault, to engage in a combat in 
 every street. 
 
 Farther on they pass rapidly by an animal showman and his 
 unfortunate victims — an equilibrist goat, monkey gymnasts, a learned 
 dog, and donkeys — poor beasts that he atrociously torments. 
 
 Here they are at last at the Museum, that incomparable collection 
 got together by Mariette by dint of energy and perseverance, and so 
 zealously continued by Maspero. 
 
 In the courtyard are sphinxes engraved with the name of 
 Thotmes III., sarcophagi, a colossus of Rameses II. in pink marble, 
 other colossi of kings in grey granite, the statue of a woman
 
 THE BOULAK MUSEUM. 
 
 333 
 
 covered with the pephim in white marble, a pedestal of Arsinoe, a 
 somewhat defaced cippus. 
 
 Ill the absence of the Doctor to initiate Jacques into the hidden 
 mysteries of all these monuments, Mariette's clear and learned notice 
 serves to guide him through the venerable remains of old Egyptian 
 civilisation. 
 
 In the small hall are a fragment of a stela, a Greek head in 
 white marble, a bust of a Koman emperor in red porphyry. 
 
 Sphinx of the time of the Hyksos. 
 
 In the large hall you notice, among other objects, a head of 
 Pharaoh covered with a pschent in black granite, bas-reliefs, stela3, 
 inscriptions, mummies' coffins, tables for offerings, a naos. 
 
 The room of the Ancient Empire I Here one finds the most ancient 
 monuments of Egypt : a sarcophagus in pink granite; the sepulchre 
 of a certain Koufou-Ankh, a functionary who lived six thousand years 
 ago ; panels of wood carved by a masterly hand ; upright stones of the 
 doorways from the tomb of Hoti ; a wooden stela from that of Scheri ;
 
 334 
 
 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 anotlier monolith stela of the tomb of Sabou. They are articles of 
 remarkable execution and precision of touch ; it is the work of a 
 people in full civilisation, and not the rude attempts of a nation 
 in its infancy. 
 
 The Hyksos Room contains the only monuments known of this 
 period that can give us some information about the invasion of those 
 Asiatics, who, after having put Egypt to the brand and sword, held 
 
 it for more than five centuries 
 under their domination. 
 
 In the Centre Room are objects 
 of all sorts — religious, funeral, 
 civil, historical : bronzes of Osiris, 
 Isis, Horns, Anubis, Ammon ; a 
 porcelain of Typhon ; a faience of 
 Thotli ; a statuette of Neith in 
 lapis-lazuli. And here are funeral 
 rituals, beetles, bolsters, sandals, 
 mummies of ibis, and the famous 
 wooden statue of the Sheikh El- 
 Beled with his stick in his hand. 
 Finally, the beetles with royal 
 cartouches, pails, vases, a vessel in 
 massive silver, an axe, a statue 
 of Chephren in diorite, supremely 
 majestic, Cheops' stone, a full- 
 length statue of Osiris. 
 The Eastern Room possesses beetles, cases of mummies, Canopus 
 vases, pectorals, amulets, statues of the Ancient Empire, arms of all 
 periods, furniture, utensils, clothes, bronze tools, axes, knives, and 
 scissors. 
 
 In the Jewel Room one remains a long time before the glass case 
 enclosing those of Queen Aah-hotep : bracelets of gold and pearls, 
 earrings, a splendid gold necklace in repousse of marvellous workman- 
 ship, and rings ; a fly-flipper, and an axe in cedar-wood, of which the 
 handles are completely covered with leaves of gold ; a boat and its 
 
 ^^^^^ 
 
 P 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 / 
 
 V 
 
 V.Vi». 
 
 
 /^^^^^l 
 
 1^ ■ 
 
 j 
 
 / 
 
 4j^H 
 
 statue of Sheikh El-Beled.
 
 THE MUMMIES OF DEIR-EL-BAHAEI. 335 
 
 crew in massive gold ; a superb alabaster statue of Queen Ameniritis : 
 and the two statues in calcareous stone of Ra-hotep and Nefert, 
 contemporaneous with King Snefru of the third dynasty— the two 
 most ancient statues known of the Ancient Empire, and consequently 
 of the world. 
 
 Then, finally, here are the famous royal mummy boxes which 
 Masp^ro has just discovered at Deir-el-Bahari in the plain of Thebes. 
 They are here in the Eastern Room, hardly unpacked. Most of these 
 mummies are so well preserved, that after more than three thousand 
 years one can still clearly catch the expression of their features. 
 Masp^ro, who is present, gives Jacques some information concerning 
 the mummies, after having related the details of the discovery. 
 
 They are the Theban Sekenen-Ra-Taaken and Queen An sera of 
 the seventeenth dynasty. Sekenen is the Conqueror of the Hyksos, 
 the hero of the War. of Independence against those Asiatics. He must 
 have died on the field of battle, struck down by two terrible blows : 
 one, probably a cut from an axe, which split his jaw ; the other a 
 thrust from a lance, which must have penetrated above the arch of the 
 right eyebrow. He bears an expression of intense sufiering on his 
 face, and has bitten his tongue in his agouy. 
 
 Tall, slim, muscular, he has a long head rounded by black hair, 
 deeply set eyes, a straight nose, large at the base, cheeks bulging out, 
 the maxillary glands being very pronounced. 
 
 Beside him is Ahmes, his descendant, then his son Amenhotep, 
 Queens Ahmes-Nofretari, Aak-hotep, Hontimos, Prince Se-Amen, 
 Princess Set-Amen, Kings Thotmes I., Thotmes II., Thotmes III., 
 all of the eighteenth dynasty. 
 
 Of the nineteenth dynasty we have Rameses I. and his son, the old 
 Seti I., builder of Karnac. The head of this last is stamped with great 
 intelligence, his white teeth are remarkably preserved, and the ends of 
 his fingers indicate that he suffered from gout. His son Rameses II.. 
 the great Sesostris of tradition, bears a striking resemblance to his 
 father, and possesses his robust vigour. The head is elongated and 
 small ; a few locks of hair cover the skull ; the forehead is low and 
 narrow, the eyes are close together, the brows short and thick ; the
 
 386 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 nose IS long, thin, very much curved ; the cheeks stand out promi- 
 nently ; the chin, which comes very forward, is furnished with a few 
 rare hairs ; the mouth is small with thick lips ; the teeth are worn ; 
 the ears stand out, and are pierced. The expression is not very 
 intelligent — it is even brutal— but it has an air of command, resolution, 
 and pride that are astounding. Rameses III. is the attenuated like- 
 ness of his father, with a little more intelligence, and less coarseness. 
 
 The twenty-first dynasty gives us Queen Notem-Maut, King 
 Pinotem II., the grand priest Masaturti, the Queen Athor-Houut- 
 Taui, the Queens Makara and Isi-Em-Kheb, the Princess Nasi- 
 Khonsu, the Prince and priest Tatf-Ankh-Nebseni, the priest Noi- 
 Shounau. 
 
 Besides the coffins and the mummies, more than five or six 
 thousand other smaller relics are here : royal papyrus; cupboards in 
 papyrus, containing, one, princesses' wigs; embalmed sheeps' legs and 
 calves' heads, vases that served for libations, a cupboard belonging 
 to Queen Makara and her daughters, and a swarm of other small 
 objects. 
 
 And now, before these mummies dating from three thousand years, 
 in face of these sculptures of the ancient empire of Ra-hotep and 
 Nefert, six thousand years old, in presence of the Sphinx of an 
 unbelievable age, so far is it lost in the night of time, to how many 
 thousands of years must we go back for the commencement of the 
 history of Egypt ? 
 
 The Sphinx is its oldest known monument, as it is the most perfect 
 in point of proportions, lines, and audacity of execution. It is the 
 result of an art arrived, if not at its climax, at least at a high degree 
 of perfection. Other masterpieces of its period must exist, buried 
 beneath the sand, perhaps lost for ever ; for it cannot be the sole 
 monument of its period. Is it the last word, the summit of art- 
 in those distant times ? Does it mark a commencement of decline 
 which continued with the first empire and went on always increasing 
 until more recent periods ? Chance alone, by uncovering some day 
 another monument contemporaneous with this colossus of calcareous 
 rock, might give the solution to the problem, and perhaps the priests
 
 The shoieo of iLe iolelof Gheiiieh. 
 
 22
 
 THE BOULAK PORT. 339 
 
 of Egypt were right when they made the origin of Egyptian history 
 ascend more than thirty thousand years. 
 
 From the terrace of the Museum, the supporting wall of which 
 bathes in the Nile, the view is splendid : opposite is the island of 
 Ghezireh, with the long line of palm trees that covers its shores, with 
 its boats at anchor or drawn up on the banks ; to the left, the river 
 speckled with craft, the Kasr-el-Nil Bridge in the background ; to 
 the right, the Nile extending northward, broad and imposing. 
 
 Leaving the garden, Jacques and Ahmed proceed to the port and 
 walk along the quays. Impossible for anything to be more lively 
 more animated, than this emporium of all the commerce of the north 
 and south of Egypt. 
 
 Multitudes of vessels lie side by side along the shore : canges, 
 dahabiehs, steamers, yachts, transports, and rafts. 
 
 From the south come the vessels from Assouan loaded with senna, 
 gathered in the desert by the warlike Ababdiehs ; elephants' tusks, 
 rhinoceros' and antelopes' horns from Darfour ; courbashes of hipiw- 
 potamus hide from Sennaar ; skins of jaguars, zebras, and giraffes, 
 arms and necklaces from Khartoum. 
 
 Dahabiehs with elevated poops advance ; they hail from Esneh 
 with ivory, ostrich feathers, acacia gum, nitre, transported across the 
 desert by caravans from Abyssinia ; coffee and incense from Arabia ; 
 spices, pearls, precious stones, cashmeres, silk, from India, arriving by 
 the desert of Kosheir. 
 
 Transports from Kenneh, composed of two boats lashed one to the 
 other by cords with a common flooring, discharge their lofty and 
 fragile cargoes of pottery ; bardaks of porous earth to keep water 
 of the Nile in, pitchers, amphora3 of all sizes and all forms. 
 
 Edfou sends its pipes, its charming vases in red and black clay, 
 elegant in form, with gracefully modelled ornaments. 
 
 And there are heavy barges from Fayoum, the land of roses, filled 
 to the top with rye, barley, cotton, indigo ; dahabiehs full of carpets, 
 woollen stuffs, flagons of rose-water, mats made with the reeds of 
 Birket-el-Keroun. 
 
 From the north come rice from Damietta, doura and maize from
 
 340 THE LAND OF THE SPHINX. 
 
 the province of Charkieh. Alexandria forwards its goods from Europe 
 and Asia : Syrian tobaccos, Persian carpets, draperies from Aleppo, 
 Smyrna, Damascus, heavy freights of wood cut on the mountains of 
 Karamania, millions of bushels of dried grapes which will be converted 
 into brandy, provisions of dried fruit, Turkish tobacco, soap from the 
 islands of the Archipelago. 
 
 Sailors of all countries, all colours, all races, naked or dressed, in a 
 bustle without a pause, run like cats through these piles of things, 
 climbing to the yards, hoisting the sails, raising enormous cases, 
 moving heavy bales of cotton, rolling great tuns of oil, filling vats 
 with pitch, vociferating with horrible imprecations, quarrelling, 
 exchanging blows ; while others, lazily extended in the bit of shade of 
 a yawl heaved high and dry, lunch on some figs, or smoke their 
 narghilehs. 
 
 And in the midst of this din, there are donkeys bending beneath 
 their burdens, on whom blows are being showered; camels abominably 
 loaded, moaning frightfully and refusing to rise ; donkey boys who 
 storm, camel drivers who yell, carters who slash the bellies of their 
 cattle with blows of the whip. 
 
 Fellaheen naked to the waist discharge a corn-boat ; others empty 
 rough stone from a barge. Here it is a dahabieh that they are repaint- 
 ing ; its reis overlooks the work and discusses with an American the 
 price of a voyage to the second cataract. There is a yacht at anchor 
 carrying the British flag, admirably kept in order. Its exquisite 
 cleanliness ill accords with the filth of the native craft. The crew, in 
 dark blue jerseys and little black caps with streaming ribbons, calm 
 and cold, smoking short white Irish clay pipes, contemplate with dis- 
 dain the clamorous mob of Arabs. Or a steamer of Cook's Agency 
 leaving for Thebes, a yacht of the Khedive, a boat crossing over among 
 the flotilla of small craft and vessels, passes under way at full sail 
 on the immense river. 
 
 They escape from this tumult, and with difficulty regain the street 
 which runs parallel to the Nile ; they follow it to the bridge of Kasr-el- 
 Nil, which they cross, and, turning sharply to the right, find themselves 
 at Ghezireh, opposite Boulak.
 
 THE GHEZIEEH DRIVE. 341 
 
 A high dyke planted with palm trees borders the bank ; gronps of 
 decayed mud houses, hung all over with old clothes ; broken cages, 
 branches of sorghum, broken pottery, rubbish of all sorts, scattered 
 over the ground, are seen through the trees — in those hovels live fisher- 
 men, bargemen, poverty-stricken folk. Here and there is a sort of shop 
 of clay and planks, where they sell raki, cofi'ee, oranges, maize cakes, 
 and things without a name. To the right, on the slope which descends 
 to the river, small vessels are drawn up ; sailors mend sails, repair 
 damaged old sloops, calk a craft, or re-tar it ; others seated or lying 
 down, at the bottom of a boat at anchor, smoke cigarettes and drink 
 cofi'ee. 
 
 On the other side of the road, to the left, are sheets of water formed 
 on the low land by the inundation ; farther on is the avenue of 
 Ghezireh bordered by sycamores. They follow it on their way back. 
 This is the promenade of the Champs Elyse'es of Cairo. There is 
 hardly any one out to-day, but on Fridays and Sundays all the world of 
 fashion drives here : victorias, horsemen, hired carriages, asses, mules, 
 pedestrians, Europeans, Arabs, passing to and fro in picturesque variety. 
 
 At the hotel Jacques finds Onesime, who is awaiting him with 
 impatience ; he has received a telegram from the Doctor, who urges 
 them to join him at Thebes. To-morrow a vessel of Cook's Company 
 is leaving. They hasten to engage a cabin. Ahmed and Hassan are 
 disconsolate at losing their customers. A good baksheesh somewhat 
 calms their regret, and a serious letter of recommendation, which the 
 two friends hand them at their request, almost completely consoles 
 them. Abdallah has already an excellent master, whom the Doctor 
 procured for him before his departure. 
 
 To-night, Jacques and Onesime have taken their farewell dinner 
 with their landlord. His servants have conveyed their trunks to the 
 boat ; to-morrow they will be on their way to Upper Egypt.
 
 #
 
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