We slept that night at a wretched khan at Neokorio in company with our horses and their vagabond drivers, and fleas in infinite abundance. Thomas, Douglas's English servant, made an ill-timed joke here, which might have been awkward among such savage people. The Turks at suppertime pressed round him to see what was in our food-bag, and he, to be rid of them, told them it was full of pork. At this they expressed the greatest disgust, pressed upon us to know if it was true, and refused to eat anything that night. However, nothing more came of it. Fleas and the manifold varieties of stinks drove us to get through our night's rest as quickly as possible. We were up and away two hours before daybreak, scrambling along a rough road. When the sun rose the effect of it on the snow-covered Sphakiote Hills was magnificent. Our way was through a country rich in olives and full of beautiful scenes. Well situated at the entrance to a valley leading up from the sea, as a defence against piratical descents, was a fortress with a [Greek: pyrgos] or watch-tower, built by the Venetians. It is of the fine workmanship they always used, with well-arranged quarters for troops, moat, &c., all very neat and well executed. There we went down on to the sands and continued along them for a length of time till we reached a small river and the ruins of a splendid Venetian bridge. Thence still along the seaside, but over rocks and past watch-towers standing within gunshot of each other, till we rose again on to a height from which we gained a grand view of Retimo. We crossed a bridge, a double arch of great depth, prodigiously effective, and there I stopped to make a sketch before descending into the town, while the luggage went on. But when we followed I was met by the dragoman before I had dismounted. He looked very pale, and telling me that my stopping by the road had been remarked and commented upon, entreated me not to say what I had been doing, but to give in fact a much more natural reason. I had already, at Canea, been warned of the danger of drawing the fortress; so, my love of truth notwithstanding, I was obliged for the dragoman's sake, he being responsible, to do as he asked. We were received into the house of Achmet Aga, the karahayah. He was not at home himself at the time, but his nephews and relatives made us welcome. As soon as he came in we were ushered into an upper room into his presence. He was a remarkably handsome old man with a long white beard. He received us with a proud, not to say cold, hospitality; so much so that when we thanked him for his polite offer of his house, as he said it was ours, he looked the other way.