It is the belief among the Forians, that if the city takes fire, the only means of arresting the progress of the flames is to bring near them a woman, no longer young, who has never been guilty of intrigue. If she be pure, by merely waving a mantle, she puts a stop to the destruction. Success has sometimes rewarded a virtuous woman. When I was in Darfur, a violent conflagration burst forth. The Sultan and all his court came and endeavoured to stop it, but in vain. Then a crier was sent about the city. He passed through every street, exclaiming, “Is there any faithful woman here? Is there a single faithful woman to be found?” But no one came forward, and we must believe that none existed. I must, however, mention, that conjugal virtues are far from being so uncommon amongst the women of the wandering Arabs in Darfur and its neighbourhood. These women, being more intelligent, are more religious and more faithful than the Forians. Among them there is far more propriety. An Arab woman, for example, who has a son in an honourable position, will abstain from any love intrigue out of respect for his name; but the Forian women not so. An intimate friend of mine, whose name I will not mention, has related to me that the mother of the Sultan Mohammed Fadhl, who was called Ambous,[19] once married her brother to a slave-girl of hers. The wedding was celebrated with great pomp, and an enormous crowd collected, of which my friend was one. “I was standing,” he said, “looking on, when the mother of the Sultan appeared, surrounded by a troop of girls, elegant as gazelles. She was then thirty-five years old, and her countenance was the most hideous possible to conceive. I wondered why God had chosen so frightful a woman to be the mother of a prince. Having led her brother to the nuptial hut, she came forth jingling her anklets and her strings of beads, and, in the dark, I felt a cloud of perfume surrounding me. She came towards me in the midst of her slaves, and, seizing my hand, led me away. I dared not resist, for fear of attracting attention. After proceeding a little way, she whispered that she was tired—she who, before she had been the mother of a Sultan, had been a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, complained of a walk of a hundred yards! I answered politely, and she led me into the hut and made me sit down, and, after some coquetry, seeing that I would not understand, said that she had a headache, and wanted me to repeat some verses of the Koran. I did so, placing my hand upon her forehead, and the odour of her perfumes troubled me; but suddenly I began to think of the danger, and trembled. So the queen, with whom I had been left alone, called out for one of her women, named Dera-el-Gader, who brought me a dish, which I tasted, and found so good, that I ate heartily; but suddenly we heard a great noise, and the servant came running, saying,—‘The Sultan! the Sultan!’ Upon this the women took