Nimmer was a man about sixty years of age, exceedingly tormented with the gravel, which was more extraordinary as he dwelt near the Nile; for it is, universally, the disease with those who use water from draw-wells, as in the desert. But he told me, that, for the first twenty-seven years of his life, he never had seen the Nile, unless upon some plundering party; that he had been constantly at war with the people of the cultivated part of Egypt, and reduced them often to the state of starving; but now that he was old, a friend to Shekh Hamam, and was resident near the Nile, he drank of its water, and was little better, for he was already a martyr to the disease. I had sent him soap pills from Badjoura, which had done him a great deal of good, and now gave him lime-water, and promised him, on my return, to shew his people how to make it. A very friendly conversation ensued, in which was repeated often, how little they expected I would have visited them! As this implied two things; the first, that I paid no regard to my promise when given; the other, that I did not esteem them of consequence enough to give myself the trouble, I thought it right to clear myself from these suspicions. “Shekh Nimmer, said I, this frequent repetition that you thought I would not keep my word is _grievous_ to me. I am a Christian, and have lived now many years among you Arabs. Why did you imagine that I would not keep my word, since it is a principle among all the Arabs I have lived with, inviolably to keep theirs? When your son Ibrahim came to me at Badjoura, and told me the pain that you was in, night and day, fear of God, and desire to do good, even to them I had never seen, made me give you those medicines that have eased you. After this proof of my humanity, what was there extraordinary in my coming to see you in the way? I knew you not before; but my religion teaches me to do good to all men, even to enemies, without reward, or without considering whether I ever should see them again.” “Now, after the drugs I sent you by Ibrahim, tell me, and tell me truly, upon the _faith_ of an _Arab_, would your people, if they met me in the _desert_, do me any wrong, more than _now_, as I have eat and drank with you to-day?” The old man Nimmer, on this rose from his carpet, and sat upright, a more ghastly and more horrid figure I never saw. “No, said he, Shekh, cursed be those men of _my people_, or _others_, that ever shall lift up their hand against you, either in the _Desert_ or the _Tell_, _i. e._ the part of Egypt which is cultivated. As long as you are in this country, or between this and Cosseir, my son shall serve you with heart and hand; one night of pain that your medicines freed me from, would not be repaid, if I was to follow you on foot to Messir, that is Cairo.”