After passing the gateway we had before us a wide road, with a lofty mud wall on one side and a lower mud wall on the other. The high wall on the right forms part of the enclosure of the Sultan’s palace; over that on the left branches of shrubs or trees appeared, showing that gardens or orchards lay behind. On either side of the road rose accumulations of refuse and filth that looked as if they might have been the growth of centuries, and the farther we went the greater became the piles of abomination, until it seemed as if these would block up the passage. We had passed a fine Moorish arch of wide span, that forms the chief entrance to the palace enclosure, and following this as it makes a sharp turn to the right, there were still no signs of dwellings. The mud walls on either side, on which many storks built their nests, were often in a ruinous state; and here and there it seemed as if people had burrowed beneath so as to make something between a den and a hovel. At length we turned into a sort of lane, and soon emerged into what appears to be one of the main streets. Hitherto we had met very few passers-by; but we now found ourselves in a rather crowded thoroughfare, encountering a good many men on horseback, and a large number of foot passengers, many of them veiled women. The street displayed nothing but mud walls, about twenty feet in height, without a single window, but with openings at frequent intervals leading into short and narrow passages or lanes. The behaviour of the people as we passed was singular. Some of them cast scowling looks at us and muttered words, certainly not of welcome, which may very likely have included some unflattering references to our grandmothers; but the great majority went by without seeming to heed us in the least, as though European costume, which had probably not been seen within the walls since M. Beaumier’s visit in February, 1868, were a familiar sight calling for no remark.