He gave me to understand that he was to teach me the language and that
we were to begin at once. This delighted me, both because I should be
more comfortable when I could understand and make myself understood,
and because I supposed that the authorities would hardly teach me the
language if they intended any cruel usage towards me afterwards. We
began at once, and I learnt the names of everything in the room, and
also the numerals and personal pronouns. I found to my sorrow that the
resemblance to European things, which I had so frequently observed
hitherto, did not hold good in the matter of language; for I could
detect no analogy whatever between this and any tongue of which I have
the slightest knowledge,—a thing which made me think it possible that I
might be learning Hebrew.
I must detail no longer; from this time my days were spent with a
monotony which would have been tedious but for the society of Yram, the
jailor’s daughter, who had taken a great fancy for me and treated me
with the utmost kindness. The man came every day to teach me the
language, but my real dictionary and grammar were Yram; and I consulted
them to such purpose that I made the most extraordinary progress, being
able at the end of a month to understand a great deal of the
conversation which I overheard between Yram and her father. My teacher
professed himself well satisfied, and said he should make a favourable
report of me to the authorities. I then questioned him as to what would
probably be done with me. He told me that my arrival had caused great
excitement throughout the country, and that I was to be detained a
close prisoner until the receipt of advices from the Government. My
having had a watch, he said, was the only damaging feature in the case.
And then, in answer to my asking why this should be so, he gave me a
long story of which with my imperfect knowledge of the language I could
make nothing whatever, except that it was a very heinous offence,
almost as bad (at least, so I thought I understood him) as having
typhus fever. But he said he thought my light hair would save me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account