We found the village of Beit Saïd to be by far the most flourishing we had as yet entered. A large open space divided a pretty little white mosque, half covered by trees, from the rest of the village. The houses were well built of stone, one especially fine, being of two storeys in height, with arched doorways and heavy wooden doors. This we found to be the caravanserai and house of a cousin of the Sheikh Besaisi of Kátaba, to whom my men were well known, and who quickly made us welcome in an upper chamber of the house, to which an outside stone stairway led. The room was small but cool, and we quickly unpacked our baggage and stored it away, settling in for a much-needed rest. A crowd watched our operations,—a gathering of men, women, children, and dogs, who, open-mouthed and open-eyed, watched the strange little caravan arrive, whispering their criticisms to one another. However, they were quite polite, the presence of El-Besaisi no doubt keeping them at a distance; for, like his cousin at Kátaba, he was no small personage here. We found the people of Beit Saïd extremely pleasant; in fact, the callers almost crowded us out of our room, they were so many, a constant crowd watching with the greatest interest the strange visitor. The rest was a welcome one, and we hoped not only to spend the day here, but to obtain, for the first time for many days, a night’s repose; but fate was against us. Having turned in about eight P.M. in a portion of the big store, where, except for the rats, I felt I should be quieter than in the guest-room, I was soon asleep, weary with all the anxiety and travel which we had accomplished. I had been asleep only an hour or two when I felt myself quietly shaken. I asked who was there. A voice whispered in my ear, “Hush! do not speak.” I struck a light, and as a wild long-haired creature leant over me to blow it out, I had just time to see that the man was a stranger. “Get up,” said the voice again; “you are in danger. Not a word, mind. Give me your bedding and carpet.” In the dark I hurried into my clothes, while the unknown seized my carpet and such baggage as I possessed, and left. I waited for a few moments, when he returned. “Your mules are already being laden,” he continued; then seizing me by the hand, added, “Follow me.” I followed him out into the quiet moonlit streets, and keeping under the shadows of the houses, left the village. Here I was surprised to find my mules already laden. No one was stirring, and in the bright moonlight we passed silently away from the place without disturbing a soul. Our road was a difficult and a steep one: at many places the track, under two feet wide, was cut into the side of a precipice, far down which we could see the white mists hovering over the damp valley.