“_June 28th._—In the morning everything appeared as quiet as usual. I reached the esparto yard about eight A.M. After I had been there for a few minutes my servant came running from the town, saying that a revolution had broken out. As he was speaking to me I noticed crowds of Arabs, armed with every conceivable kind of weapon, hurrying down to the seaside. Mr. Leonardi had just telegraphed the turn things had taken to Mr. Reade at Tunis, when the wires were cut near where I was standing. In spite of all my efforts, the Arabs who were working for me decamped _en masse_—some to join the insurgents, others to look after their families. To add to the scene of confusion, the Arab women came on to the housetops and walls of the native town, making the well-known trilling, bird-like sound (in Arabic called _zahrit_), to encourage their husbands, sons, and brothers in the revolt. Several Hamáma tribesmen who were delivering esparto grass in the yard ran off, leaving both merchandise and money, crying out, ‘Let us fight the French, and gain heaven!’ Just then all the Consular flags were hoisted, but the French colours were again lowered almost immediately. We gave the key of the safe to our head Arab watchman, and collecting the books of the firm,[1] and accompanied by my faithful workmen as a bodyguard, made for the boats. Our men kept shouting out _Ingliz, Ingliz_ (Englishmen), and this was a talisman for us till we got down to the water’s edge. Here an Arab rode at us with a drawn sword, but some of his co-religionists kept him back, declaring we were _real Englishmen_ and should not be touched. At last we reached a boat, and got her off through the mud, for it was low water. All the Europeans were now busy putting their families on board the various small craft available; but on one of the ‘Chacal’s’ boats approaching the jetty ten shots were fired at her. It was only the extreme prudence of the officer in not returning this fire, which prevented a general massacre of the fugitive Christians not yet embarked.