“_Dio guardi, che affronto_,” he said, and quietly drank his glass of rum; for a similar insult had been openly offered to him in the divàn of the Basha, which naturally referred to the poisonings laid to his charge in Arabia and here. Not only did the superior military and civil officers fear to take medicine from him; but also the Basha—who, indeed, knew him best—would not receive on one occasion a glass of lemonade from him, though he had prepared it under his own eyes, and asked my brother for another glass, which was, of course, annoying to him. He was called at the bazaars “Rogh el Affiùn;” in the coffee-houses, “Rogh el Affiùn,” and “el Marras” (ruffian, or bad man). The unhappy end of Mustaphà Bey found general sympathy; and some astonishment was excited when it was known that the Basha had threatened Suliman Effendi with the bastinado if he did not pay his debts. Even in the divan of Vaissière (which we also called the exchange, because this man, who was an officer under Napoleon, and decorated with the _croix d’honneur_, carries on the most considerable traffic in slaves in the whole country) the death of the Bey was discussed by the Franks; and it was doubted whether it had been done by Ahmed Basha’s orders, or whether Suliman Effendi had accomplished the deed of his own accord, in order to render an essential service to him. Whilst they were speaking of him, the old greybeard entered with his accustomed sallies of wit. They laughed at his conceits, and treated him as usual, which is so easy for these European people, even when they have deadly hatred in their hearts, that it makes an honest man shudder. I could relate a good deal of these Europeans, but it would make too long a digression here, although we are stopping between the Blue and White Nile; and I consider it even my duty to particularize them by name on another opportunity, as I, with my iron sceptre in my hand, have before threatened to do. My brother and myself might perhaps be reproached for having visited such companions, who, under an exterior appearance, by which the mere passing traveller is so easily blinded, have utterly abandoned all law, justice, and morality, and have almost renounced Europe; and for having associated with men who are no longer masters of their better selves, but entirely lost, and of whom we were warned in Káhira. Kahira and Alexandria must be known to estimate properly such a warning, as it does not refer to the immorality of men, but only to the preservation of one’s own interests against danger. Káhira, as well as Alexandria, affords abundance of materials for a _chronique scandaleuse_, and forms an uncommonly rich and highly interesting stubble-field of unmistakable colonial nature, where a careful winnowing of the higher society would give a surprising result. It is the same even with the small and partly ephemeral colonies of Franks in Khartùm, where they concentrate themselves at times.