"But, here I am lingering over my chat with you, dearest, and all this time these men are calling out for me. Poor fellows! They are just like souls in purgatory if I am away from them for a moment." CHAPTER XV. "At last, my dear Emily, I have got rid of those men, who have been as charming as usual, and, if anything, rather more assiduous in their attentions than before. The Egyptian sun, doubtless, infuses warmth into their hearts, and I am not surprised, as it has exactly the same effect on me. "To hark back—We left Marseilles eight days ago. We had a compartment reserved for us, in which I sat opposite to Madame de Guéran, whilst the painter, the literary man, and the doctor occupied the other seats. As for Joseph, he got into another carriage and, as he was no longer under our watchful eyes, could talk as largely as he pleased whilst discussing our and his own little affairs. "By the time we reached Lyons the whole train knew who we were and where we were going, and called Joseph Mohammed Abd-el-Gazal, as long as your arm. I imagine, too, that he must have spoken particularly about me, and have expatiated upon my former travels, for, the moment I entered the refreshment-room, there was no end of whispering and pushing amongst the people there. "Fortunately for me, these things do not trouble me in the least. I accept resignedly the popularity which accrues to me through my numerous adventures. "You know, my dear Emily, what people generally do who have to pass the night in a railway carriage—how each settles himself in his own particular seat, screws himself into the corner of it and hollows out a nest, as it were, undoes his travelling-rug, stretches himself out, or curls himself up, according to his taste, and, in short, makes all his arrangements for sleeping or musing, conformably to his temperament and his fancy. "We were not due at Marseilles until eleven o'clock on the following morning, and we disposed ourselves accordingly; I, for my part, making myself as comfortable as I could, whilst paying due attention to the grace of my movements, and the dignified elegance of my attitude. I was anxious to give everybody an idea of what may be called the poetry of sleep. Only, my feet were in my way and embarrassed me; do what I would to pack myself up and shrink into the smallest possible space, I did not know where to put them. They hung over the seat by a foot and a half. "I was at last just going to sleep, and I thought that my neighbours would do the same, when I became a witness of the following scene:—