_12th._--SLEPT little during the night. Sorry I can't read during the nights on account of my eyes. But somewhat improved in health. Saw several merchants who say nothing of the Levi and Silva business. I'm in hopes this subject will not be agitated during the few days I have to remain in Ghadames. The second ghafalah has arrived but brings me nothing, not even the medicines ordered from Tripoli. Patience! What can be done? The Governor affected this evening to be very indignant against the son of Yousef Bashaw for destroying the ruins of Kesar-El-Ensarah. The Turks are becoming antiquaries, and, perhaps, begin to see the uselessness and folly of destroying ancient buildings for the sake of destroying them, even though they belong to an infidel age. To their credit, the Moors themselves are fond of antiquity in churches, and will patch up a marabet or mosque as long as they can. The Rais, still frightened, suggests that I should return to Tripoli. But I cannot now, I will not. I ought not, for I have acted over all the pains and perils of the journey to Soudan many days and nights, and exhausted myself with expectations, casualties, probabilities and conceivabilities, &c., &c. I am now, in truth, suffering all sorts of maladies, mental and bodily. Such is the wretched existence we are doomed to sustain! And yet is not this our mortal existence a still greater curse to the man, who lives without an object and without an aim? _13th._--Talk of heat and the burning desert, I had last night an attack of cold, which I shall not forget to the latest day of my life! My limbs all shrunk together, my teeth chattered, and I did not know what pains or disease was about to come upon me. This happened whilst undressing. I immediately dressed myself in all my thickest heaviest clothes, lay down, and in twenty minutes happily recovered from the attack. But scarcely slept all night, got a few winks of sleep this morning. I attribute all this to the nervous agitation of advancing into The Desert without a guide or friend, on whom I can rely, combined with the severity of the season fast setting in. Glad to see the sensation of the Silva business dying away. People begin to laugh at me about it, and call the Consul _Sheytan_ for disclosing the purport of a letter written confidentially to him. However, I cannot conceive that Colonel Warrington was influenced by any other feelings than those which resulted from a strict sense of duty. Apparently zealous in the performance of his public avocations, he was determined to discharge them at any cost, even at the sacrifice of the life of a fellow-countryman. This is all I can now say about the matter. Fortunately I was well known here, and the people could not believe that it was from any ill-will to them that I denounced the parties, which I hope the reader will give me credit for; nor, indeed, could I have any hostile feelings against the Tripoline merchants. What I