his house all night, when he suffered excessive pains, and I may say then only I was in safety.
Achmet seemed, by strange accident, to be one of the gentled spirits of any that it was my misfortune to converse with at Sennaar. He was very little attached to, or convinced of, the truth of the Mahometan religion, and as little zealous or instructed in his own. He used often to qualify his ignorance, or disbelief, by saying, that any, or no religion, was better than that of a Christian. His place of birth was in a village of Fazuclo, and it appeared to me that he was still a Pagan. He was constantly attended by Nuban priests, powerful conjurers and sorcerers, if you believed him. I often conversed with these in great freedom, when it happened they understood Arabic, and from them I learned many particulars concerning the situation of the inland part of the country, especially that vast ridge of mountains, Dyre and Tegla, which run into the heart of Africa to the westward, whence they say anciently they came, after having been preserved there from a deluge. I asked them often, (powerful as they were in charms), Why they did not cure Achmet of the gravel, or epilepsy? Their answer was, That it was a Christian devil, and not subject to their power.
Achmet did not believe that I was a Christian, knew I was no Mahometan, but thought I was like himself, something between the two, nor did I ever undeceive him. I was no missionary, nor had I any care of souls, nor desire to enter into conversation about religion with a man whose only office was to be the deliberate murderer of his sovereign. He spoke good Arabic, was offended at no question, but an-
