The fact is, the Governor knows what he is about. Were his Excellency to receive 16,000 dollars per annum as presents from the merchants of Mogador, the Sultan would demand of him 15,999; besides, there is not a merchant who makes a present that does not demand its value, a _quid pro quo_ in the remission of custom-duties. Sidi-El-Arby is also a thorough diplomatist, so far as report goes; he promises anybody anything; he keeps all on the tiptoe of most blessed expectation, and so makes friends of everybody. "To his friend, Cohen," he says, "I'll take you back to my country with me, and make you rich; we are of the same country." To Phillips, "You shall have a ship of your own soon." To the merchants, "The Sultan shall lend you money whenever you want it." To the Moors in general, "You shall have your taxes reduced." In this way, his Excellency promises and flatters all, but takes very good care to compromise himself with none. The frequented as well as the unfrequented spots are centres of superstition. In the Sahara, by a lonely well, in the midst of boundless sterility, where the curse on earth seems to have burnt blackest, a camel passes every night groaning piteously, and wandering about in search of its murdered master, so the tale was told me. Now, about two day's journey from Mogador, there is also a well, containing within its dank and dark hollow a perpetual apparition. At its bottom is seen the motionless statue of a negress, with a variety of wearing materials placed beside her, all made of fine burnished gold, and so bright, that the dreary cavern of the deep well is illuminated. Whoever presumes to look down the well at her, and covets her shining property, is instantaneously seized with thirst and fever; and, if he does not expire at once, he never recovers from the fatal effects of his combined curiosity and avarice. People draw water daily from this well, but no one dare look down it. Truth may be in this well! since there is a sad want of it on this, as on other parts of the world. I was introduced to a Spanish renegade, a great many make their escape from the presidios of the North. On getting away from these convict establishments, they adopt the Mahometan religion, are pretty well received by the Maroquines, and generally pass the rest of their days tranquilly among the Moors. I imagine the better sort of them remain Christians at heart, notwithstanding their public assumption of Islamism. This renegade was a stonemason, whom I found at work, and he was not at all distinguishable by strangers from the Moors, being dressed precisely in the same fashion. I had some conversation with him, which was characteristic of conceit, feeling and honour. _Traveller_--"How long have you escaped?" _Renegade._--"More than twenty years." _Traveller._--"Do you like this country and the Moors?" _Renegade._--"Better is Marruécos than Spain." _Traveller._--"Shall you ever attempt to return to Spain?"