At that moment a stout, big-built man, dressed in a blue surcoat and trousers and wearing a scarlet tarbouch, appeared on the scene, riding a small and miserably lean donkey and attended by two barefooted runners. Sliding awkwardly to the ground, he waddled to the edge of the Canal, and, addressing us in French, asked what had gone amiss. The bos'n began to explain the situation, and at the same time the Arabs appealed to him; with the utmost capacity of their voices. "It's one of the native officials of the Canal," explained the quartermaster, who had had previous experience of the East. "Ask him to come aboard," said Uncle Herbert, and, stepping awkwardly into the gig, he was rowed alongside. Puffing and blowing like a grampus, he gained the deck, and after a few words with the Arabs he turned to my father. "They want to be paid in advance," he explained in French, a language which the pater readily understood. "They are asking a hundred piastres (slightly over one pound) to clear the propeller, as they say the rope is wound round as hard as iron." "Tell them that they will be paid directly they have finished the job," said my father resolutely, his Cornish determination beginning to assert itself, "or else I'll send our own divers down." "Offer the old sinner five piastres for himself, sir," said the quartermaster in a stage aside. "He is not above taking baksheesh, I'll allow." My father took the hint, and the Gippy jumped at the bait, for, seizing a stout stick which one of his attendants carried, he chased the Arabs over the side, belabouring and reviling them with all the energy at his command. This done, he waddled breathlessly to a deck-chair, and, seating himself, demanded the promised guerdon. In the meantime four of the Arabs, armed with long knives, were working in relays, two at a time, and within half an hour the obstruction was removed and the propeller in working order. Hardly had this task been completed and the men paid than the sun set, and with remarkable suddenness the daylight gave place to intense darkness, so the "Fortuna" was compelled to remain in the gare till sunrise. The tropical heat of the day gave place to a piercing cold, a circumstance that surprised us, and we were glad to turn out our warm clothing, which, soon after leaving Gibraltar, we had discarded, as we had hoped, for months. Just before turning in I went on deck, and, looking southwards, I noticed a glare in the sky. It turned out to be the searchlight of the P. and O. s.s. "Caledonia," which vessel, being privileged to proceed through the Canal at night, carries a powerful lamp that, with its operator, is suspended in a large cage over the bows. Slowly the huge liner passed, leaving the darkness intensified by the blinding glare. "A pretty sight, isn't if?" remarked my uncle, who had joined me on deck and was puffing at a cheroot.