your property and your lives.” He had hardly left off speaking, when the principal people of the village, who had assembled to see us, began telling us alarming stories. One of them said, that a pedler coming from Aleppo, and going into the desert, had been plundered by the Bedouins, and had been seen returning quite naked. Another had learned that a merchant from Damascus had been killed. All agreed as to the impossibility of penetrating amongst the hordes of Bedouins, and endeavoured by every possible means to deter us from the dangerous enterprise. I saw that M. Lascaris was vexed; he turned to me, and said in Italian, not to be understood by the others, “What say you to this account, which has much discouraged me?” “I do not believe,” said I, “all these stories; and even if they were true, we ought still to persevere in our project. Ever since you announced to me your intention to go among the Bedouins, I have never hoped to revisit my home. I regarded the thirty days you allowed me at Aleppo to enjoy myself, as my last farewell of the world; I consider our journey as a real campaign; and he who goes to war, being well resolved, should never think of his return. Let us not lose our courage: though Hassaf is a sheik, and has experience, and understands the cultivation of land and the affairs of his village, he can have no idea of the importance of our business: I therefore am of opinion that we should speak to him no more of our journey into the desert, but place our trust in God, the protector of the universe.” These words produced the effect upon M. Lascaris, who embraced me tenderly, and said, “My dear son, I put all my hope in God and in you; you are a man of resolution, I see; I am most satisfied with the strength of your character, and I hope to attain my object by the aid of your courage and constancy.” After this conversation, we went to sleep, equally satisfied with one another.