‘Do you think I do not know that?’ said Barizy of the Tower; ‘but he will be recalled for this purpose. The English will not go to war in Syria without Palmerston. Palmerston will have the command of the fleet as well as of the army, that no one shall say “No” when he says “Yes.” The English will not do the business of the Turks again for nothing. They will take this city; they will keep it. They want a new market for their cottons. Mark me: England will never be satisfied till the people of Jerusalem wear calico turbans.’ Let us inquire also with Barizy of the Tower, where was Besso? Alone in his private chamber, agitated and troubled, awaiting the return of his daughter from the bath; and even now, the arrival may be heard of herself and her attendants in the inner court. ‘You want me, my father?’ said Eva, as she entered. ‘Ah! you are disturbed. What has happened?’ ‘The tenth plague of Pharaoh, my child,’ replied Besso, in a tone of great vexation. ‘Since the expulsion of Ibrahim, there has been nothing which has crossed me so much.’ ‘Fakredeen?’ ‘No, no; ‘tis nothing to do with him, poor boy; but of one as young, and whose interests, though I know him not, scarcely less concern me.’ ‘You know him not; ‘tis not then my cousin. You perplex me, my father. Tell me at once.’ ‘It is the most vexatious of all conceivable occurrences,’ replied Besso, ‘and yet it is about a person of whom you never heard, and whom I never saw; and yet there are circumstances connected with him. Alas! alas! you must know, my Eva, there is a young Englishman here, and a young English lord, of one of their princely families----’ ‘Yes!’ said Eva, in a subdued but earnest tone. ‘He brought me a letter from the best and greatest of men,’ said Besso, with much emotion, ‘to whom I, to whom we, owe everything: our fortunes, our presence here, perhaps our lives. There was nothing which I was not bound to do for him, which I was not ready and prepared to do. I ought to have guarded over him; to have forced my services on his acceptance; I blame myself now when it is too late. But he sent me his letter by the Intendant of his household, whom I knew. I was fearful to obtrude myself. I learnt he was fanatically Christian, and thought perhaps he might shrink from my acquaintance.’ ‘And what has happened?’ inquired Eva, with an agitation which proved her sympathy with her father’s sorrow. ‘He left the city some days ago to visit Sinai; well armed and properly escorted. He has been waylaid in the wilderness and captured after a bloody struggle.’ ‘A bloody struggle?’