Memphis, with its ruins and mounds, in the midst of which stand the Arab hamlets of Sokkara and Mitraheny, was traversed with some difficulty, though the site is now chiefly occupied by waste and marshes that reach to the sand-hills on the edge of the desert; but from Abusir all round to the west and south, for miles, Skene and his guide found themselves stepping from grave to grave amid bones and fragments of mummy cloth--the remains of that wondrous necropolis which, according to Strabo, extended half a day's journey each way from the great city of Central Egypt. 'Ugh!' muttered Malcolm Skene, as he guided the steps of his camel and lighted more than one long havannah, 'this is anything but lively! What a dismal scene!' 'The work of the Pharaohs,' said Hassan, for to them everything is attributed by the Fellaheen, who suppose they lived about three hundred years ago. But Memphis was ere long left in his rear, and night was at hand, when--according to Hassan Abdullah's statement, on computation of distance--they should reach and halt at certain wells, about ten _shoni_ distant therefrom, in the direct line to the Wady Faregh. Memphis was, we say, left behind, and the two rode swiftly on. His former thoughts recurring to him, Malcolm Skene, checking his camel to let that of his guide come abreast of him, said to the latter: 'Your face is singularly familiar to me. Did we ever meet in Cairo?' Hassan grinned and showed all his white teeth, but made no reply. 'Your face _has_ some strange mystery for me,' resumed Skene, with growing wonder, yet fearing he might make the man think he possessed the evil eye; 'it seems a face known to me--the face of the dead in the garb of the living.' 'And it is so, _Yusbashi_ (captain), so far as _you_ are concerned,' was the strange reply of the Fellah as his black eyes flashed. 'What do you mean?' 'We met in the roulette saloon of Pietro Girolamo.' 'Right! I remember now; you are one of the fellows I fought with. I thought you were killed in that row!' 'Nearly so I was, and by _you_.' This was an awkward discovery. 'But you escaped?' 'Yes; thanks to an amulet I wear--a verse of the Koran bound round my left arm.' To trust such a rascal as Skene now supposed this fellow must be was full of peril. To return and seek another guide, when he had proceeded so far upon his way, would argue timidity, and tempt the 'chaff' of the more heedless spirits of the mess; thus it was not to be thought of. He could but continue his journey with his despatches, and watch well every movement of his guide; but to have as such one of the ruffians and bullies of Pietro Girolamo was certainly an unpleasant discovery--one with whom he had already that which in these parts of the world is termed a _blood feud_, seemed to be the first instalment of his gloomy presentiment.