At sunset we returned to Saïd’s house to spend the evening in a family party, the members of which varied between the ages of seventy or eighty and grimy babies of a few months old. However, it was an insight into Arab life, and was rendered by no means unamusing by Saïd’s wonderful lies about Aden, his earthly paradise. He fairly took the breath away from his relations with the startling untruths he told, but I scarcely believe that they gave him credence; and probably had he kept to the strict truth, and only told about the forts and troops and good government there, they would equally have taken it for exaggeration. Perhaps after all he pursued the best course, and possibly by knocking off some ninety-nine per cent for the native love of story-telling, they arrived at about the right result. We were up with the sunrise, and enjoyed the luxuries of a Turkish bath. Fortunately the windows to admit the light were very small, otherwise we should, I think, have seen much that was not tempting; but one forgot any possible disadvantages in the luxury of soap and hot water. From the “hummum” we proceeded to a _café_ in the principal square, and perching ourselves cross-legged under an awning in front of the coffee-shop, joined in the swim of conversation over “hubble-bubble” pipes. A handful of troops were drilling before us in the square, poor dishevelled creatures, many without even a boot on their feet. There were perhaps a hundred and fifty in all, and I was told that of the four hundred who had been sent to garrison the place after Ahmed Feizi Pasha’s successful relief of Sanaa two or three months before, these were all that remained, sickness having carried off the rest—starvation probably. The officers seemed as disheartened as the men, and appeared to lack all interest in the drill. Many of the soldiers were smoking cigarettes, but no one seemed to take any notice of it; and after an hour or so the soldiers wandered off in different directions, without apparently being dismissed. It was sad to see their poor wan faces, thinned and paled with sickness and hunger. Although crowds now and again collected round me, it was surprising how polite every class of native was to me, and I do not once remember, during all the time I was in the Yemen, except on one or two occasions from the guards of my prison at Sanaa, a word of abuse. The Yemenis are the aristocracy of Islam. Wild in appearance, their manners are perfect, and though their nature now and again leads them to violence, they are as a rule gentle and hospitable, and as my travels proceeded, the more I saw of them, especially the inhabitants of the mountains and the plateau, the more I liked them. Nor did I find any difference with the townspeople, and many a kind word of welcome was said to me now and again.