Among the motley crowds always assembled at the Jaffa Gate, we caught sight of a young clerk, with whom we had had dealings, and who spoke English fairly well. He was standing near his office. In response to Elizabeth's sign, he crossed the road with alacrity, and was all attention to her commands. When, however, he understood their extent, and grasped the fact that a stranger had met with an accident, and saw him apparently dead on the back of the brawny porter, he bolted into his office, shut the door with the words, “Excuse me, madame, but I am too busy to help.” There was no time to analyse our own feelings, for the procession had increased considerably, the babel of tongues was deafening, donkeys braying, camels grunting, men screaming and gesticulating; even the lepers rushed forward and added to the noise and confusion. The porter's face bore a look of unmistakable terror, as he caught a glimpse of the ragged uniform of a soldier, but on we went, hoping that the _hakeem's_ house was not far off. Happening to glance round we saw to our intense relief the swaggering form of Ameen approaching. In him we saw also an end to all our difficulties. We attacked him at once. “Find a doctor, please, or do something for this poor man, and do, if you can, stop that awful noise!” we exclaimed. Alas, Ameen manifested the same extraordinary unwillingness to interfere, though his sympathy was excited. “Do look at him,” we urged, “perhaps you may know him, and why are all the people calling to him and shouting _hakeem_?” Yielding to our entreaties Ameen examined the face of the object of our solicitude, added his contribution to the hubbub, and exclaimed-- “He's the Russian doctor from the hospital, the people say; he was riding into Bethlehem this afternoon, it is the day he sees patients among the pilgrims there. Poor man, we will carry you to the Russian hospital, that is,” continued he, turning to us, “if you will take all the responsibility, Miss N.” “Of course I will take the responsibility!” was the impatient answer. “Be quick, unless you want him to die!” Ameen now assumed leadership, issued his orders with much importance, using the English lady's name with great effect, we could see. The porter, however, kept close to us, talking earnestly. “What is he saying?” inquired Elizabeth. “He is afraid that he will be punished. He thinks he will be accused of the doctor's death and be put into prison; he begs of you to say that he is only acting under the English ladies' orders; he is their slave, and cannot help himself,” replied Ameen. “Assure him that he need have no fear, he shall not get into trouble for helping us; we will see to that,” Elizabeth answered, looking down kindly on the man, who seemed as grateful as if he had been rescued from some terrible danger.