The mule on which the Sarach rode went at a very brisk pace; my animal did her best, but she could not keep up with the mule. Each man of the soldiers, besides the rest of his arms, had a quarter-staff like a watchman's pole, about nine feet long, with which every one in his turn laid heartily on the ass to make her keep up with the Sarach's mule. I had every reason to sympathize with the beast for the severity of the blows, of which I was a perfect judge, as whether through malice or heedlessness, every fourth stroke landed upon my back or haunches, so that my flesh was discoloured for more than two months afterwards. Speaking was in vain; you might as well have cried to the wind not to blow. Few people walk in the streets of Cairo at night; some we did meet who made us way, only observing to each other, when we passed, that I was some thief the Janizary Aga had apprehended. In this most disagreeable manner, I had rode near three miles, when I arrived at the Bey's palace. There all was light and all was bustle, as if it had been noon-day. I alighted with great difficulty from my disconsolate ass, but with much greater pleasure than ever I mounted the finest horse in the world. None of the people there knew what I came for, but thought I was some Arab from the country. At last I saw a Copht who had been a servant of Ali Bey. I told him who I was, and he immediately knew me, but had not heard that I was arrived, and still less that I was sent for; but he went in to the Bey's secretary, who ordered my immediate admission.
In the mean time, my Sarach and company, who had used me so tenderly, came round me, desiring the Bacsish, or money to drink. "Look you, friend, said I, your master knows me well, and you shall see what is the Bacsish he will give you." A number of Turks standing by asked, "What did he do to you? Did he use you ill? Tell the Bey, and he will do for him." My friend seemed to be sensible he was in a scrape, and, though the order of the Bey came for my being admitted, he would not allow me to pass, but put his back against the door till I promised to say nothing to the Bey.
I was introduced to Mahomet Bey Abou Dahab. He was son-in-law to Ali Bey my friend, whom he had betrayed, and forced to fly into Syria, where he still was at the head of a small army. He had been present with him the day I had my last audience, when he was plainly dressed as a soldier. A large sofa, or rather two large sofas furnished with cushions, took up a great part of a spacious saloon. They were of the richest crimson and gold, excepting a small yellow and gold one like a pillow, upon which he was leaning, supporting his head with his left hand, and sitting just in the corner of the two sofas. Though it was late, he was in full dress, his girdle, turban, and handle of his dagger, all shining with the finest brilliants, and a finer sprig of diamonds upon his turban than what I had seen his father-in-law wear once when I was with him.
The room was light as day, with a number of wax-torches or candles. I found myself humbled at the sight of so much greatness and affluence. My bare feet were so dirty, I had a scruple to set them upon the rich Persian carpets with which the whole floor was covered, and the pain that walking at all occasioned gave me altogether so crouching and cringing a look, that the Bey, upon seeing me come in, cried out, "What's that? Who is that? From whence is he come?" His secretary told him, and immediately upon that I said to him in Arabic, with a low bow, "Mahomet Bey, I am Yagoube, an Englishman, better known to your father-in-law than to you, very unfit to appear before you in the condition I am, having been forced out of my bed by your soldiers in the middle of the only sound sleep I have had for many years." He seemed to be exceedingly shocked at this, and said to his attendants in Turkish, "My people! who dares do this? it is impossible." Those that were privy to the message reminded him of his sending for me, and the cause, which he had forgot. They told him what Ismael had said, and what the Copht, the tax-gatherer, had mentioned, all very much in my favour. He turned himself with great violence on the sofa, and said, "I remember the man well, but it was not a man like this, this is bad payment indeed. I was going to ask you, Yagoube, says he, who those were that had brought you out in such distress, and I find that I have done it myself; but take my word, as I am a mussulman, I did not intend it, I did not know you was ill."
My feet at that time gave me such violent pain that I was like to faint, and could not answer, but as there were two flowered velvet cushions upon one of the steps above the floor, I was obliged to kneel down upon one of them, as I did not know how sitting might be taken. The Bey immediately saw this, and cried out, "What now? what is the matter?" I saw he thought I had some complaint to make, or something to ask. I shewed him my feet in a terrible situation, the effects, I told him, of my passing through the desert. He desired me immediately to sit down on the cushion. "It is the coldness of the night, and hanging upon the ass, said I, occasions this; the pain will be over presently." "You are an unfortunate man, says the Bey, whatever I mean to do for your good, turns to your misfortune." "I hope not, Sir, said I; the pain is now over, and I am able to hear what may be your commands." "I have many questions to ask you, says the Bey. You have been very kind to poor old Ismael, who is a sherriffe, and to my Christian servant likewise; and I wanted to see what I could do for you; but this is not the time, go home and sleep, and I will send for you. Eat and drink, and fear nothing. My father-in-law is gone, but, by the grace of God, I am here in his place; that is enough." I bowed, and took my leave.
The Bey had spoken several times to his servant in Turkish; but these interruptions are too common at such audiences to be taken notice of. I went out to the anti-chamber attended by five or six people, and then into another room, the door of which opened to the lobby where his soldiers or servants were. There was a slave very richly dressed, who had a small basket with oranges in his hand, who came out at another door, as if from the Bey, and said to me, "Here, Yagoube, here is some fruit for you."
In that country it is not the value of the present, but the character and power of the person that sends it, that creates the value; 20,000 men that slept in Cairo that night would have thought the day the Bey gave them at an audience the worst orange in that basket the happiest one in their life. It is a mark of friendship and protection, and the best of all assurances. Well accustomed to ceremonies of this kind, I took a single orange, bowing low to the man that gave it me, who whispered me, "Put your hand to the bottom, the best fruit is there, the whole is for you, it is from the Bey." A purse was exceedingly visible. It was a large crimson one wrought with gold, not netted or transparent as ours are, but liker a stocking. I lifted it out; there were a considerable number of sequins in it; I put it to my mouth and kissed it, in respect from whence it came, and said to the young man that held the basket, "This is, indeed, the best fruit, at least commonly thought so, but it is forbidden fruit for me. The Bey's protection and favour is more agreeable to me than a thousand such purses would be."
The servant shewed a prodigious surprise. In short, nothing can be more incredible to a Turk, whatever his quality may be, than to think that any man can refuse money offered him. Although I expressed myself with the utmost gratitude and humility, finding it impossible to prevail upon me, the thing appeared so extraordinary, that a beggar in a barracan, dressed like those slaves who carry water, and wash the stairs, should refuse a purse of gold, he could no longer consent to my going away, but carried me back to where the Bey was still sitting. He was looking at a large piece of yellow sattin. He asked the usual question, "How, now? What is the matter?" To which his slave gave him a long answer in Turkish. He laid down the sattin, turned to me, and said, "Why, what is this? You must surely want money; that is not your usual dress? What! does this proceed from your pride?"
"Sir, answered I, may I beg leave to say two words to you? There is not a man to whom you ever gave money more grateful, or more sensible of your generosity in offering it me, than I am at this present. The reason of my waiting upon you in this dress was, because it is only a few hours ago since I left the boat. I am not however a needy man, or one that is distressed for money; that being the case, and as you have already my prayers for your charity, I would not deprive you of those of the widow and the orphan, whom that money may very materially relieve. Julian and Rosa, the first house in Cairo, will furnish me with what money I require; besides, I am in the service of the greatest king in Europe, who would not fail to supply me abundantly if my necessities required it, as I am travelling for his service."—"This being so, says the Bey, with great looks of complacency, what is in my power to do for you? You are a stranger now where I command; you are my father's stranger likewise, and that is a double obligation upon me: What shall I do?"—"There are, said I, things that you could do, and you only, if it were not too great presumption for me to name them."—"By no means, if I can I will do it; if not, I will tell you so."
I saw by the Bey's manner of speaking that I had risen considerably in character in his opinion since my refusal of the money. "I have, Sir, said I, a number of countrymen, brave, rich, and honest, that trade in India, where my king has great dominions." He said, as half to himself, "True, we know that." "Now there are many of these that come to Jidda. I left there eleven large ships belonging to them, who, according to treaty, pay high duties to the custom-house, and, from the dictates of their own generosity and magnificence, give large presents to the prince and to his servants for protection; but the sherriffe of Mecca has of late laid duty upon duty, and extortion upon extortion, till the English are at the point of giving up the trade altogether." "Ibn Cahaba, says he, (which is, son of a wh—re,) he paid for that when I was at Mecca." "The Bey took Mecca," says a man at my shoulder. "Why, says the Bey, when they say you are such a brave nation, why don't you beat down Jidda about his ears? Have you no guns in your ships?" "Our ships, Sir, said I, are all armed for war; stout vessels, full of brave officers and skilful seamen: Jidda, and much stronger places than Jidda, could not resist one of them an hour. But Jidda is no part of our dominions; and, in countries belonging to stranger princes we carry ourselves lowly, and trade in peace, and never use force till obliged to it in our own defence." "And what would you have me to do?" says he. "Our people, replied I, have taken a thing into their head which I am satisfied they are well founded in: They say, that if you would permit them to bring their ships and merchandize to Suez, and not to Jidda, they might then depend upon your word, that, if they were punctual in fulfilling their engagements, they should never find you failing in yours." "That they shall never have to say of me, says the Bey; all this is to my advantage. But you do not tell me what I am to do for you?" "Be steady, Sir, said I, in your promise; it is now late, but I will come again to settle the duties with you; and be assured, that when it is known at home what, at my private desire, you have done for my country in general, it will be the greatest honour that ever a prince conferred on me in my life." "Why, let it be so, says he, bring coffee; see you admit him whenever he calls; bring a caftan[52]." Coffee was accordingly brought, and I was cloathed in my caftan. I went down stairs with my barracan hid under it, and was received with greater respect by the bye-standers than when I came up; the man was the same, but it was the caftan that made the difference. My friend the Sarach and his banditti were ready at the door with a mule, which had gilt stirrups, and was finely caparisoned.