A little later we were rather startled by a message from his Majesty, informing us that he could not rest before comforting his friend, and that he would come and see us. Though we did our best to dissuade him from such a step, he soon afterwards came; accompanied by some slaves carrying arrack and tej. He said, "Even my wife told me not to go out, but I could not leave you in grief, so I have come to drink with you." On that he had arrack and tej presented to all of us, himself setting the example. He was calm, and rather serious, though he made great efforts to appear gay. He must have remained at least an hour; conversing on different topics, the Pope of Rome being the principal one discussed. Amongst other things: he said, "My father was mad, and though people often say that I am mad also; I never would believe it; but now I know it is true." Mr. Rassam answered, "Pray do not say such a thing." His Majesty replied, "Yes, yes, I am mad," Shortly before leaving, he said, "Do not look at my face or take heed of my words when I speak to you before my people, but look at my heart: I have an object." As he returned, he gave orders to the guards to withdraw outside, and not to inconvenience us. Though we have seen him since then once or twice, at a distance, it is the last time we conversed with him. The two days we spent in the black hole at Debra Tabor, all huddled up together, obliged to have lighted candles day and night, and in anxious uncertainty about our future fate, were really days of mental torture and physical discomfort. We hailed with joy the announcement that we were going to move; any alternative was preferable to our position--be it rain in a worn-out tent, be it chains in one of the ambas--anything was better than close confinement, deprived of all comforts, even of the cheering light of day. At noon on the 5th of July, we were informed that his Majesty had already left, and that our escort was in attendance. All were delighted at the prospect of seeing fresh air and green fields and bright sun. We did not require a second command, and did not even give a second thought to the journey, rain, mud, and such like inconveniences. On that day we made but a short stage, and encamped on a large plain called Janmêda, a few miles south of Gaffat. Early morning the following day the army moved off, but we waited in the rear at least three hours before the order came for us to start. Theodore, seated on a rock, had allowed the whole force, camp-followers included, to go on in advance, and like us, unprotected from the pouring rain, and seemingly in deep thought, examined the different corps as they passed before him. We were now strictly watched; several chiefs with their men guarded us day and night, a detachment marched ahead of us, another in the rear, and a strong party never lost sight of us.