I endeavoured several times to rise, but was always prevented by the Kashef, who insisted upon my getting drunk with him; but as I never stood more in need of my senses, I drank very sparingly. Towards noon, the whole camp was in a profound sleep; and in a few hours after, the Kashef was sufficiently sober to be able to talk rationally to me. I told him that I had come into Nubia to visit the ancient castles of Ibrim and Say, as being the remains of the empire of Sultan Selym; that I had had recommendations from Esne to himself and his two brothers, and that I had come to Mahass merely to salute him and his brother, conceiving that I should be guilty of a breach of good manners if I quitted Say without paying my respects to them. Unfortunately, my letters from Esne, addressed to the three brothers, were in the hands of Hassan Kashef, who would not return them to me when I quitted Derr, saying that I should not want them, as he had not given me permission to go beyond Sukkot. My story was, in consequence, not believed: “You are an agent of Mohammed,” said the Kashef’s Arabic secretary; “but, at Mahass we spit at Mohammed Aly’s beard, “and cut off the heads of those who are enemies to the Mamelouks.” I assured him that I was not an enemy of the Mamelouks, and that I had waited upon the two Begs at Derr, who had received me very civilly. The evening passed in sharp enquiries on the one side, and evasive answers on the other; and the Kashef sat up late, with his confidents, to deliberate what was to be done with me, while I took post with my camels, under cover, behind his hut. No one had the slightest idea that I was an European, nor did I, of course, boast of my origin, which I was resolved to disclose only under the apprehension of imminent danger. In the night a messenger was sent across the river to learn Hosseyn Kashef’s opinion respecting my arrival.