From Singapore to Penang takes but three days more, and here the steamer delays eight hours for the mails. These eight hours are, however, sufficient to enable a passer-by to judge of the infinite beauty of the place. It is verdant and luxuriant as a corner of paradise, and the most delicious fruits abound in every part.
Eight days after this, we touched at Point de Galle, in the island of Ceylon, where all the passengers were put on shore. The luggage was then transferred to another steamer, and the "Malta" continued her journey to Bombay. The number of travellers by this route is seldom large. We were but thirty-two, and consisted of English, Portuguese, and French. We all breakfasted together at a cottage-restaurateur's in the Jardin Canella, which is the public promenade of the place.
Embarking, towards evening, on board the "Bentinck," another steamer belonging to the same company, we started for Suez, and after ten days' travelling touched at Aden, for the purpose of taking in coals. It is a wretched spot—arid and desolate, and inhabited by a race of hideous and miserable human beings. Seven days on the Red Sea brought us to Suez, where I landed with real delight. We crossed the Isthmus in omnibuses, and our luggage was transported by a troop of camels. The camel-drivers were half of them blind, or nearly blind; for their eyes, during the transit across the desert, are perpetually attacked by myriads of flies.
Two refreshment-stations have been established along this route, for the benefit of travellers journeying between Cairo and Suez.
Cairo, as has been truly said many and many a time before, is a city taken from the pages of the "Thousand and One Nights." I shall not attempt to describe it here, for it has been described well and often, and I have nothing new to tell. I spent three days there, dreaming and wondering, strolling through bazaars and marketplaces, and visiting all that is most curious and surprising in the city and its neighbourhood. As for the Pyramids, although I saw them from afar in my passage down the Nile, I cannot say that I experienced any special delight or enthusiasm at the sight. Cairo, and Cairo alone, usurped all my admiration, and, far as I have travelled, and much as I have seen, I may truly assert that no spot I ever beheld could compare with it for novelty and magnificence.
From Cairo we proceeded by steamer down the Nile to Boulac, and at Boulac took the railway to Alexandria. Excepting a glimpse of the distant pyramids, and the sight of those quaint little mud-coloured Egyptian villages which lie scattered along the banks of the great river, this journey afforded no objects of interest by the way. At Alexandria I remained three days, waiting the arrival of my luggage. This city, unlike Cairo, is neither picturesque nor splendid. The bazaars are dirty, the population is scanty, and (being chiefly inhabited by Europeans) the oriental costume is but rarely seen. I visited the palace of the viceroy, Pompey's Pillar, and Cleopatra's Needle; but my heart was full of France and home, and I cared little for either modern palaces, or vestiges of a remote antiquity. How happy I was when I at length embarked on board the "Valetta," and knew that in six days more I should tread French ground! On the fourth day, we touched at Malta, but no one went on shore; and on the 26th of December, 1854, the "Valetta" cast anchor at Marseilles.
On the 30th I was in Paris, and read the following announcement in the columns of La Presse:—
"Mademoiselle Fanny Loviot, who was taken prisoner not long since by pirates in the Chinese seas, has just returned to France in the 'Valetta,' via Marseilles."
Oh, the happiness of once more dwelling in the midst of those dear ones who had so often lamented me with tears, and believed me lost for ever! Oh, the delights of home, after the sufferings and dangers of a journey round the world! I went to seek my fortune, and found only misfortune. Still, with all their troubles, my weary wanderings had not been wholly profitless. I had beheld Nature, bountiful and beautiful Nature, under her most varied aspects; and if I had endured fatigue, privation, and even disease, I had, at least, lived that life of peril which hath its own peculiar charm for the imaginative and the young.
I have never yet regretted my journey, or its adventures. May the indulgent reader, who has followed me thus far in my narrative, as little regret the trouble of perusal!