and no such person as Mulai el-Hassan, its Sultan, for he knew well enough that all North Africa was under the French. At length he insisted on his saying the Mahammedan belief, to assure himself that he was in truth a co-religionist. Abdurrahman’s indignation was intense, especially as Saïd happened to be present; for with a true oriental love of exaggeration the Moor had been telling the Yemeni wonderful tales of the greatness and power of his country and its Sultan, and it pained him to find that the Turkish Pasha had never heard of either, and Saïd’s smile and look were anything but reassuring to his pride in his fatherland. [Illustration: THE AUTHOR BEING EXAMINED AND HIS PASSPORT READ IN THE PRESENCE OF AHMED FEIZI PASHA, GOVERNOR-GENERAL OF THE YEMEN.] At length, in a burst of anger, Ahmed Feizi called to a couple of officers, and his remarks being translated to me by the Armenian, I learned that I was to be kept in security for the present. A hand was laid on my shoulder, and I was gently led away, leaving the handsome old Pasha as scarlet as a tomato. In the large anteroom I was handed over to a guard of four soldiers, who conducted me through the streets to a guard-room, situated above the prison yard, where I was soon ensconced, the door banged and locked, and a sentry posted on the outside. My baggage, which I had left at the khan, was sent to me a little later. Meanwhile, Abdurrahman and Saïd were strictly cross-examined by the Governor-General, and as the account the first had to give of himself did not seem satisfactory, he quickly followed me to jail. That Saïd was a Yemeni there could be no doubt, but he suffered a like fate—I suppose for keeping such bad company. I spent five days in prison at Sanaa. The room was clean, and I was decently treated, being only once roughly handled. Wishing to speak to an officer in the courtyard, I proceeded to leave my room, the door of which was kept open by day, when I was rudely pushed back by the sentry. The first night I was allowed to sleep alone and in peace; but on the succeeding three, two non-commissioned officers shared the chamber, dirty things in uniforms, which wore the look of never having been taken off. However, they were good-hearted fellows, and both spoke Arabic well. [Illustration: _The Author in prison at Sanaa._]