We have learnt through Mr. Koyander that Mr. Abaza, a very old friend of my family, who had known me at home as a little girl when I was still in short frocks, and whom I had lost sight of for a great many years, had settled in Alexandria. We let him know the day and hour of our arrival, and when we reached Alexandria, as we stepped out of the train, a gentleman came forward with both hands extended, saying, “A hearty welcome to you, Princess Vava!” My amazement can well be understood, when Mr. Abaza proved to be the silent fellow-passenger who had crossed with us from Sebastopol to Constantinople, whom we had taken for a taciturn Greek. How extraordinary that we should meet like that! Queer what a little place the world is! It is so nice to have an old friend turn up in a far country! We put up at Alexandria at the Hotel Abbat, where our guide Mahmoud served as dragoman. On the following afternoon we went on a visit to Mouchtar Pasha, the ex-commander of the Turkish army during the Russo-Turkish war, who had removed to Egypt, an old general overcharged with years and decorations. Our ancient foe came up with his hand out, welcoming us heartily. We had no need of an interpreter, the Pasha speaking very good French. Our host proposed a little refreshment; and the next moment a turbaned servant came in with tea and stole out of the room silently, walking backwards. Next day we went to see Mr. Abaza in Ramle, a little place situated at an hour-and-a-half’s journey from Alexandria, where he owned a house of his own. We passed the hippodrome, a broad racing-ground, and a large plain utilised for purposes of recreation by cricketers and lawn-tennis players, arranged by the English colony of Alexandria. We now rolled through an arid and deserted country, swarming with all sorts of vermin, serpents, scorpions, bats, etc. As we approached Ramle the scene changed as if by magic, and we found ourselves in an ocean of verdure. Mr. Abaza came to meet us at the station, and led us to his pretty villa buried among the trees. He regaled us with a Lucullus lunch, with champagne in profusion. The meal was served by Arab servants clad in white, very well groomed and trained. Directly after lunch Sergy had to return to Alexandria to be received in private audience by the Khedive, and I remained at Ramle until night, Mr. Abaza having proposed to see me back safely to Alexandria. I found my husband enchanted with his visit to the Khedive, who had been charming to him. We sat together with Mr. Abaza on the terrace of our hotel till late, and had a comfortable chat over old times. CHAPTER LVII OUR WAY BACK TO RUSSIA