Ras Michael had burnt nothing at Tsoomwa, though there was a house of Powussen’s in the place, built by his father. But that dissembler, to prevent the worst, and carry on the farce to the uttermost, had sent many bags of flour for the use of the King and the Ras, which were to be distributed to the army in case they wanted. From the passage to Tsoomwa, all the country was forsaken; the houses uninhabited, the grass trodden down, and the fields without cattle. Every thing that had life and strength fled before that terrible leader, and his no less terrible army; a profound silence was in the fields around us, but no marks as yet of desolation. We kept strict watch in this solitude all that night. I took my turn till twelve, as I was the least fatigued of any. Netcho had picquets about a quarter of a mile on every side of us, with fire-arms to give the alarm. On the 23d, about three in the morning, a gun was heard on the side towards the passage. This did not much alarm us, though we all turned out. In a few minutes came Ayto Adigo, (not the Shum of Karoota, already mentioned, who left us at the Gomara,) but a young nobleman of Begemder of great hopes, one of the gentlemen of the king’s bed-chamber, and consequently my colleague. He intended to have brought four horses to the king, one of which he had drowned, or rather, as I afterwards understood, throttled in passing the Nile at the mouth of the lake; and two men, the king’s servants, had perished there likewise. He came in great hurry, full of the news from Begemder, and of the particulars of the conspiracy, such as have been already stated. With Ayto Adigo came the king’s cook, Sebastos, an old Greek, near seventy, who had fallen sick with fatigue. After having satisfied his inquiries, and given him what refreshment we could spare, he left Sebastos with us, and pursued his journey to the camp.