Then, talking of thieves and banditti, the Rais told me to bring my money to his house in order that he might take care of it. On depositing it with him he asked how much it was. There were only two hundred piastres of Tunis, all the money I had. The Rais seemed surprised it was so little (about _seven pounds sterling_!) I made the best of it by telling him if I remained I must send for some more. He also recommended me not to sleep on the top of the house, but in my room, and shut the door. However, it is so hot that I should be suffocated if I were not to leave the door open. In explanation, he said, "The Touaricks and other strangers are thieves." The Rais is very sick, with bad eyes. Sent him some more physic. Whilst writing my journal, the house is filled with Touaricks, and I cannot get rid of them. I am obliged therefore to enter into conversation to amuse them. "How large is Ghat? as large as Ghadames?" "Bigger than Tripoli." "Have you plenty of meat in Ghat?" "Plenty of everything." "I am afraid of you--you killed one of my countrymen near Timbuctoo?" "No, no, (crying out lustily,) not the Touaricks of our country." "Will you take me safe to Ghat?" "Upon our lives!" (_Drawing their swords across their foreheads._) "Have you a written language?" "Yes." "What's your name?" (The Touaricks to me.) "Here, I will write it." "Have you any medicine for the eye?" "Yes." I then applied some solution to the eyes of one of them. Another said: "My son is always coughing. What shall I do for him?" "Bring him here," I said, "in the morning, and I will give him something." _The Touarick._--"You won't poison him?" _I._--"No, no." They then entered upon a religious conversation. "What do you think of _religion_? Do you pray?" "Well, there is one God." "And, Mohammed?" "He is the prophet of the _Arabs_." "Who is your prophet?" "Jesus; he is Prophet of all the Christians, as Moses is the prophet of the Jews." (With impatience.) "But Mohammed?" "We Christians have but one Prophet, who is Jesus." Here an interruption took place, of which I was very glad. Afterwards they resumed: "Have you any powder?" "No; I am an English Marabout, and carry no arms, and have nothing to give away but medicines." "Aye, an English Marabout, and not a merchant?" "No; only a Marabout." One of them. "We shall take your name as you have written it on this paper, and show it to our people. It will be esteemed precious by them; and if you ever wander that way through The Desert, they will ask you your name, and, if you reply to it, they will not kill you, but give you plenty of camel's milk. If they have not your name they may kill you, and not their fault."