A little after, our guides cried out, “Here’s the village!” and we entered the first house. It belonged to a farrier, named Hanna el Bitar. He showed a lively sympathy in our situation, set about covering us both with camel-dung, and gave us a little wine--a few drops at a time: having thus restored our strength and warmth, he withdrew us from our dunghill, put us to bed, and made us take some good soup. After a sleep, which was indispensable, we borrowed two hundred piastres to pay our guides and carry us to Damascus, which we reached the 23d December, 1810. M. Chabassan, a French physician, the only Frank at Damascus, received us; but as we were to pass the winter here, we afterwards took up our quarters in the Lazarist Convent, which was abandoned. I will not describe the celebrated city of Sham (Damascus), the Gate of Glory (Bab el Cahbé), as the Turks style it. Our long residence has enabled us to know it minutely; but it has been too often visited by travellers to offer any new interest. I return to my narrative. One day, being at the bazaar to pass away the time in the Turkish fashion, we saw running towards us a Bedouin, who embraced us, saying, “Do you not recollect your brother Hettall, who ate your bread at Nuarat el Nahaman?” Delighted with meeting him, we took him home, and having regaled him, and asked him many questions, we learned that the affairs of the tribe Hassnnée were in a bad condition, and that the league against them was extending daily. Hettall told us that he was of the tribe of Would Ali, whose chief, Douhi, was known to us. This tribe winters in the territory of Sarka and Balka; it reaches from the country of Ismael to the Dead Sea, and returns to Horan in the spring. He proposed to us to visit it, promising a good sale for our merchandise. Having consented, it was agreed that he should come for us in the month of March. Sheik Ibrahim having received, through the intervention of M. Chabassan, a group of a thousand tallaris from Aleppo, desired me to make new purchases. When they were completed, I showed them to him, and asked whether any thing would remain for us at our return? “My dear son,” he replied, “the gratitude of every chief of a tribe brings me more than all my merchandise.--Be under no concern. You also shall receive your return in money and in reputation. You shall be renowned in your time; but I must know all the tribes and their chiefs. I depend upon you to get to the Drayhy, and for that purpose you must absolutely pass for a Bedouin. Let your beard grow, dress like them, and imitate their usages. Ask no explanations--remember our terms.” My only reply was, “May God give us strength!” Twenty times was I on the point of abandoning an enterprise of which I perceived all the dangers without knowing the object. This silence, this blind obedience, became insupportable. However, my wish to come to the issue, and my attachment to M. Lascaris, gave me patience.