As I have already stated, I only knew three or four words of Arabic, and with such a poor vocabulary it was difficult to talk with my hosts. Still, they evidenced great joy at my arrival, for every moment they renewed their protestations, while laying their hands on their hearts. I replied by similar signs, and hence had not to draw on my imagination to keep up the conversation. Later, however, urged by an appetite whose prompt satisfaction I did not calculate on, I ventured on a new pantomime. Laying my hand on the pit of my stomach, and assuming a suffering air, I tried to make Bou-Allem comprehend that we required more substantial food than civil compliments. The intelligent Arab understood me, and gave orders for the meal to be hastened on. In the meanwhile, and to keep us quiet, he offered, by gestures, to show us his apartments. We ascended a small stone staircase, and, on arriving at the first floor, our guide opened a door, which offered this peculiarity, that, to pass through it, you were obliged to lower your head and lift your foot simultaneously. In other words, this door was so low, that a man of ordinary height could not pass through it without stooping, and, as the floor was raised, you were obliged to step up on it. This chamber was the bash-aga’s reception-room; the walls were covered with red arabesques relieved with gold, and the ground strewn with magnificent Turkey carpets. Four divans, covered with rich silk stuffs, completed the entire furniture, with a small mahogany table, on which were spread pipes, porcelain coffee cups, and other objects especially used by Mussulmen. Among them, Bou-Allem took up a flask filled with rose-water, and poured it on our hands. The perfume was delicate; unfortunately, our host wished to do things grandly, and in order to show the esteem he held us in, employed the rest of the bottle in literally sprinkling us from head to foot. We visited two other large rooms, more simply decorated than the first, and in one of them was an enormous divan. Bou-Allem made us comprehend that was where he slept. These details would have been very interesting at any other moment, but we were dying of hunger, and, according to the proverb, “a starving belly has neither eyes nor ears.” I was just going to recommence my famous pantomime, when, in passing through a small room, in which the only furniture was a carpet, our cicerone opened his mouth, pointed with his finger that something was to be placed in it, and thus made us understand we were in the dining-room. I laid my hand on my heart to express all the pleasure I experienced. By Bou-Allem’s invitation we sat down on the carpet, round a large waiter put down in place of a table. Once seated, two Arabs came in to wait on us.