But the following proves still more strongly to what extent the influence of the British flag might be carried.—Since the reduction of the refractory Arabs to submission, no chief had received such repeated marks of kindness and attention from the bashaw, as sheikh Belgassam ben Khalifa, head of the powerful tribe of El Gibel. At the particular request of the former, sheikh Khalifa had quitted his tents and flocks, resided in the city, and was high in his prince’s confidence—fatal pre-eminence in Barbary states!—and had been presented, but a few months before, with one of the most beautiful gardens in the Minshea. Returning from the castle after an evening of music and dancing in the bashaw’s private apartments, Belgassam kissed the hand that had signed his death-warrant, and took his leave. At his own door a pistol-shot wounded him in the arm, and on entering the skiffa, or passage, a second entered his body. The old sheikh, after his slave had fastened the door, staggered to his carpet, and then, in the arms of his wife, proclaimed his assassin to be his own nephew, sheikh Mahmoud Belgassam Wildé Sowdoweah. The work being, however, but half done, others rushed in, and seven stabs put an end to his sufferings, notwithstanding the screams of his wife, who received two wounds herself, in endeavouring to save her husband. The poor old man was almost instantly buried, and the three persons who had undertaken the murder fled to the British consulate for protection. Early the next morning, however, the consul despatched his dragoman to give the bashaw notice, “that the murderers of Khalifa would find no protection under the flag of England.” The bashaw said, “he was shocked at the murder, and regretted the assassins having taken refuge in the consulate, as it was a sanctuary he could not violate, particularly as he understood they meant to resist, and were well armed.” Our consul replied, “that the bashaw was at liberty to send any force he pleased, and use any means he thought best, to drag them from beneath a banner that never was disgraced by giving protection to assassins.” The minister also came and expressed the bashaw’s delicacy; and it was evident he did not expect such would be the conduct of the consul: he was, however, peremptory, and the bashaw dared not seem to favour such an act of villany. It was sunset before he decided on taking them away, when about sixteen of the chosen people of the castle entered the consulate, and the wretches, although provided with arms, which they had loaded, tremblingly resigned themselves, and were, in less than an hour, hanging over the walls of the castle.