Being now relieved from the effects of my ride, I was taken to the harým to see the shaykh’s wife, my patient. The entrance to the harým, or the women’s side, was by so circuitous a way, that it took up ten minutes to arrive at her chamber, which was at the very top of the palace. We entered on a terrace paved with coloured stones, in the centre of which was a circular basin, with a fountain in the middle. On the side fronting the entrance was a dome, supported by four pillars, painted in lively colours, and not without taste. Under it the women would sit in the day-time, and overlook the courtyard below, where all the busy scene, of cavaliers and men on foot, was open to their view. One side of the terrace had a large saloon, the other an alcove, with an open divan between two rooms, in one of which was the fair Drûze, sitting up in bed, dressed, and with her horn on her head, which the Drûze women never lay aside, up or in bed.
I was much struck with her beauty, and with a pair of rosy cheeks on a very fair and clear skin, which looked very little like a person in ill health. I was somewhat surprised at finding that the person in waiting was the wife of Jahjah Atmy, our former host at Meshmûshy. Coffee and a narkily were brought to me, and, whilst smoking, her case was examined. I left her, and retired to rest, saw her the next morning, and then departed for Abra, where I arrived about eight at night.
My servant-boy, Musa, tired of work, had contrived, during my absence, to excite the pity of a woman travelling to Tyre, to whom he told a story of his wish to return to his distressed mother. In this way he reached Tyre, and betook himself to the house of the bishop. The bishop suffered him to remain with his family, but secretly wrote to me a letter, desiring to know whether he should send him back. As, however, he had stolen nothing, and was evidently tired of his service, I only requested the bishop to endeavour to forward him by safe hands to Jerusalem, whither he had often expressed a wish to return.
During my absence, also, the alarm of robbers had increased; so I distributed among the servants what arms were in the convent. In the mean time, I began to be anxious about her ladyship, from whom no letter had yet been received, nor could I hear anything certain of the movements of her royal highness the Princess of Wales. Miss Williams had recovered from her indisposition, but sickness and alarm had already begun to make her discontented with her position.
Although the following letters relate to a date posterior to the close of this narrative, they are nevertheless not altogether irrelevant, as affording a strong illustration of Lady Hester Stanhope’s character. It is Dr. Wolff himself who has related all these circumstances to me, and who has favoured me with the copies of the letters.
“In the year 1823 I travelled with Captain the Honourable John Caradoc, now Lord Howden, from Jerusalem to Sayda, from which latter place, as being near to Lady Hester’s residence, I forwarded to Miss Williams a letter from her sister, Mrs. David, which had been entrusted to me by that lady, and to which I added a note from myself, saying that I should be happy to forward her answer to her sister, at Malta. One hour after, a letter arrived from Lady Hester herself, the contents of which were as follows:—
“‘To Dr. Wolff.
“‘I am astonished that an apostate should dare to thrust himself into notice in my family. Had you been a learned Jew, you never would have abandoned a religion, rich in itself although defective, to embrace the shadow of one. Light travels faster than sound: therefore the Supreme Being could never have allowed his creatures to be left in utter darkness, until paid and speculating wanderers deem it proper to raise their venal voice to enlighten them.
“‘Hester Lucy Stanhope.’”
Dr. Wolff immediately returned the following answer:—