It was at last settled they should pay 6,250 mahboubs, as an annual contribution. Under the Caramanly dynasty they paid only some 850 mahboubs per annum, besides being left to the uncontrolled management of their own affairs. Now, whilst the people are complaining of the large amount of taxation imposed upon them, and pleading their impossibility to pay up arrears--in this irritable state of things--an order comes from Ahmed Effendi in The Mountains, to collect an additional contribution of 3,225 mahboubs, under the pretext of its being wanted to maintain troops in Fezzan, and keep open the communications of commerce. This intelligence has so completely astounded the few remaining merchants who have any money, that they nearly lost their senses, yesterday and to-day, being very ill, and unable to attend to their ordinary business. The money for the last four months is not yet collected, and the people say they cannot pay up. Our Rais has three times represented to the Pasha the inability of the people, but the answer always is, "_money must be had_." I expect to witness some cruel scenes of extortion practised before I leave this place, like what I saw in The Mountains. I observe now the Rais can't keep a respectable collector. _No native of Ghadames will collect for him._ Sometimes he sends the Arab soldiers, who abuse the defaulters. Once an Arab soldier got hold of a poor man in the street, an acquaintance of mine, to drag him off before the Rais. I told him to stop a moment, and then having ascertained how much it was--about one shilling and eight-pence--paid the money and got the poor fellow clear this time. Sheikh Makouran is a true patriot. Whenever he sees anybody dragged off in this way through the streets, in spite of the Governor, and his being a member of the Divan, he takes upon himself to impede the course of justice (_extortion?_), abuses with all his might the officer, and if he can't rescue the defaulter, pays the money himself: so strives for public liberty this Hampden of The Desert! To-day, had a proof of the rancorous enmity of the ancient factions. A merchant of the Ben Welleed, who wished to visit me, said, "I must come round the city, for _I don't know_ the streets of the Ben Wezeet. Thank God! I never went through them in my life." This he said with vehemence, intimating that he never would enter the streets of the Ben Wezeet as long as he lived. A ghafalah has arrived from the oases of Fezzan, bringing corn and dates, productions abundant in those countries.