death together." She began with great earnestness to say, "She could not tell who killed Mahomet Towash, for she only heard it in conversation from her husband, who was there, after he had come home." I then, word for word, put those questions to her that I had done to her husband, and had precisely the same answers. The only difference was, that she believed a party of the Ababdé would pass Chiggre soon; but seeing me rise to go away, she burst out into a flood of tears, and tore her hair in the most violent excess of passion; shrieking out, to have mercy upon her, and pressing the little child to her breast as if to take leave of it, then laying it down before me, in great agony and bitterness of heart, she again shrieked out, "If you are a Turk, make it a slave, but do not kill my child, and spare my husband."
Though I understood Arabic well, I did not, till that day, know it had such powers, or that it contained expressions at once so forcible and so simple. I found myself so much moved, and my tears came so fast, that it was in vain to endeavour to carry on a farce under such tragical appearances, "Woman, said I, I am not a Turk, nor do I make slaves, or kill children. It is your Arabs that force me to this; it was you that attacked me last night, it was you that murdered Mahomet Towash, one of your own religion, and busied in his duty. I am a stranger, seeking my own safety, but you are all murderers and thieves."—"It is true, says she, they are all murderers and liars, and my husband, not knowing, may have lied too. Only let me hear what he told you, and I will tell you whether it is truth or not." Day was now advancing apace, and no resolution taken, whilst our present situation was a very unsafe one. We
