Before I entered upon my charge, I desired Petros (now recovered) Aylo, Abba Christophorus, a Greek priest who acted as physician before I came to Gondar, and Armaxikos priest of Koscam, and favourite of the Iteghè, to be all present. I stated to them the disagreeable task now imposed upon me, a stranger without acquaintance or protection, having the language but imperfectly, and without power or controul among them. I professed my intention of doing my utmost, although the disease was much more serious and fatal in this country than in mine, but I insisted one condition should be granted me, which was, that no directions as to regimen or management, even of the most trifling kind, as they might think, should be suffered, without my permission and superintendence, otherwise I washed my hands of the consequence, which I told before them would be fatal. They all assented to this, and Armaxikos declared those excommunicated that broke this promise; and I saw that, the more scrupulous and particular I was, the more the confidence of the ladies increased. Armaxikos promised me the assistance of his prayers, and those of the whole monks, morning and evening; and Aylo said lowly to me, “You’ll have no objection to this saint, I assure you he eats and drinks heartily, as I shall shew you when once these troubles are over.” I set the servants all to work. There were apartments enough. I opened all the doors and windows, fumigating them with incense and myrrh, in abundance, washed them with warm water and vinegar, and adhered strictly to the rules which my worthy and skilful friend Doctor Russel had given me at Aleppo. The common and fatal regimen in this country, and in most parts in the east, has been to keep their patient from feeling the smallest breath of air; hot drink, a fire, and a quantity of covering are added in Abyssinia, and the doors shut so close as even to keep the room in darkness, whilst this heat is further augmented by the constant burning of candles. Ayabdar, Ozoro Altash’s remaining daughter, and the son of Mariam Barea, were both taken ill at the same time, and happily recovered. A daughter of Kasmati Boro, by a daughter of Kasmati Eshtès, died, and her mother, though she survived, was a long time ill afterwards. Ayabdar was very much marked, so was Mariam Barea’s son. At this time, Ayto Confu, son of Kasmati Netcho by Ozoro Esther, had arrived from Tcherkin, a lad of very great hopes, though not then fourteen. He came to see his mother without my knowledge or her’s, and was infected likewise. Last of all the infant child of Michael, the child of his old age, took the disease, and though the weakest, of all the children, recovered best. I tell these actions for brevity’s sake altogether, not directly in the order they happened, to satisfy the reader about the reason of the remarkable attention and favour shewed to me afterwards upon so short an acquaintance.