me to visit her, but feigns unconsciousness. I have already Saïda as an ally. Were she not afraid of being disagreeable to Hosnah, we would be sure of the zeal of my step-mother, on condition always that she remains hidden behind the curtain.

Mansour-my little savage-is a charming child; you can not imagine the affection this poor little fellow has for me: he only seems to live in my presence. Saïda is devoted to him, and we take him out to drive with us, which, the other day, was the cause of a curious incident. We had gone out in the coach. The weather was so beautiful that passing Choubrah we reached the banks of the Nile, when the idea occurred to me of taking the child to see his mother. The scene was the same as before: the same children -yaoulets, as they call them-were playing on the boats moored there, and startling the scarlet flamingoes. Some buffaloes dotted the blue water with great spots of black, while the little fellahines, slender and graceful in their cloth draperies, with jars upon their heads in the form of amphora vases, which each supports with the arm of a caryatid covered with glass bracelets, went and came with the easy, undulating grace of antique statues. Mansour, on seeing his old comrades, wished to get out and show himself in his dress of an effendi, and we permitted him to do so. We were soon surrounded, and you can imagine the cries of joy and wonder.

We followed the road on foot to reach a cluster of huts which were about a hundred yards off, when suddenly Mansour dropped my hand, and dashed off after a stranger who was crossing the road. The pedestrian turned round: it was Hassan. Letting the child lead him, he came toward us, but-withheld by respectstopped. My gaze met his; he started no doubt, discovering it was me-bowed his head in secret recognition, and smiling gently on the little fellah, as if I must take the smile to myself, went on without daring to proffer a word.

You may believe I was much exercised in answering Saida's questions, for she was greatly puzzled with this by-play. When she learned that he was the man who saved Mansour

"How ugly he is!" she cried.

I know not why, but this exclamation spread peace into my soul. Certainly the ugliness of the poor poet Hafiz absolves me for the secret bond so strangely formed between us, and of which chance seems to renew the remembrance. I told you, I think, that Mansour's mother is a fortune-teller. She was standing in the doorway, and, seeing me approach with the child, rushed to throw herself at my feet and kiss the hem of my habarah with great effusion of gratitude.

“Enter, hanums," she said, in the grave and dignified manner of a sibyl.

While she devoted herself to embracing her son, I examined with amazement the interior, which I had entered after much repugnance. In the place of that sordid poverty and dirt which are ordinarily to be found in the dwellings of the fellahs, there was a comparative cleanliness which almost testified to a certain ease. The cabin had only one room, lighted by the open door, so that the farther end was in darkness. We seated ourselves on a divan of red cotton cloth; on a mat before us were carefully arranged some little pottery cups, some shells, and some cheese; and on one side a writing-desk and some old books. Silent, and impressed by all this, Saida looked around with curiosity.

Thin, bronzed, with strongly marked harsh features, the guayari has an air of savage energy which must inspire confidence and terror in her fortune-telling. Her eyes, shaded with kohl as far as the middle of her cheeks, have a savage glitter, which abash the gaze and seem to wrest one's secret thoughts involuntarily. She knelt at my feet, searching me with her dark orbs. Give me your hand," she said.

I refused, but Saïda timidly held hers out. The sorceress held the little hand in hers, and appeared to study the lines, then without saying a word she rose and returned with a stand upon which a live adder was crawling. Saïda screamed. "Do not be afraid," she said. "It is a harmless reptile."

And, as if she wished to show us what was dangerous, she went and brought a little cage which she placed before our eyes. A serpent, rolled into a ring scarcely larger than a bracelet, seemed sleeping on a bed of sand. It was an asp, whose sting is mortal, and which is used only in the most terrible incantations.

Of course the fortune-teller only predicted happiness, fortune, power, and all smiling prophecies, until Saïda was beaming. Before going away I gave Salome permission to come and see her son at Chimilah.

XVIII.

I HAVE had an interview with my father, which was at the same time solemn and charming, in which he complimented me by treating me as a daughter with intelligence enough to understand things, and to be associated with the ambitious projects that he does not confide to the narrow minds of my elder sisters. He did not conceal from me the fact that, in the present ruined state of our family affairs, they depend solely on me to raise them up. Politics and caprice of the rulers being in this country the only source of wealth and favor, he unfolded to me the hopes arising

ing the wife of Mohammed terrifies me. Is there not some hour in our lives when the heart awakens and, bursting all the trammels that our poor wisdom has invented to subjugate it, it speaks as a master, annulling the past, stifling everything, even the recollection of pledges made? Martha, I love Hassan ! Do you understand? I should love to give him my life-my soul, and all that is mine! I have loved him from the first day, to that second supreme one when we met. I will love him until I die, and I shall be the wife of another! What is to become of me in that irrevocable future to which I thoughtlessly abandoned myself? I am lost! lost beyond recall-lost, without its being possible even for me to attempt (Conclusion next month.)

to defend myself. I can not be the wife of Mohammed; I should die! It would be cowardly infamy. It would be a frightful torture to which they have no right to condemn me.

But what shall I do? Everything is decided upon; all is nearly accomplished. For three days I have thought of throwing myself at my father's feet, and imploring him to break off the marriage; but what pretext could I give? To own the truth, would be to betray Hassan-to loosen against him new and powerful hatreds. You see, I am utterly lost-only a miracle can save me!

From the French of JACQUES VINCENT (Revue des Deux Mondes).

WHE

WHEN Ismail Pasha ascended the viceregal throne of Egypt, he inherited from his predecessor, Said Pacha, a legacy which proved to be the cause of his troubles, his misfortunes, and his end. Saïd Pasha had granted to a French company the right to cut a ship-canal from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea.

It was a grand idea, no doubt. But, if we are to believe the records of the past, it was not a new one. Twice before the waters of the Mediterranean had been connected with the waters of the Red Sea, and it is generally credited that even the canal which now exists was projected long before the present company undertook to dig it. It was a gigantic undertaking, although not a very difficult one to accomplish. It does not require any great engineering skill to excavate in sand; and, as soon as it was ascertained that the sand would not return to the place from which it was taken, the problem was solved. As for the danger arising from the sides falling in, every one knows that wet sand is always hard, and that it has no tendency to "cave." Any one who walks upon a beach may observe it for himself. Still, it was a great undertaking. It has proved to all the world-Egypt alone exceptedof great advantage. For Egypt, however, it has turned out to have been a great commercial as well as a great political mistake. It has been the principal cause of her financial ruin, and led to the dethronement of her late Viceroy.

It has proved a great commercial mistake in this: that it has permitted all the travel and all the merchandise going to and coming from In

dia to Europe to pass her by; whereas, before the canal was dug, everything and every person going to and coming from that direction, stopped at her ports, used her roads, and paid toll continually, thus profiting every one, from hotelkeeper to donkey-boy.

It was a political mistake because it has placed Egypt upon the highway to India, thus making her an object of jealous solicitude, and of great importance from a strategical point of view, to those nations whose power is supposed to be mainly derived from that country, or whose ambition lies in that direction; while the ruinous influence it has exercised over the finances of Egypt may be seen by a passing glance at the facts; and I venture the assertion that no one who will take the trouble to consider them-save only those who have profited thereby—will hesitate to say that a greater scheme of cruelty and plunder was never imagined, or, if imagined, was never before carried to such successful execution.

The first proposition which was made to the then Khedive (Saïd Pasha), by the projectors of the enterprise, was a very plain and simple one. If the Pasha would permit them to excavate a canal through his dominions, which would join the Mediterranean with the Red Sea, they would do all the work at their own cost. When the canal should be completed, they would pay him fifteen per cent. of the profits which the canal might earn. As there was no water in the country through which it was to be cut, except such as would come into it from the sea, and as a great number of workmen would be employed

upon it, and as the principal part of the grain of the country is grown in Upper Egypt, beyond Cairo, which then came to Alexandria for shipment, and which, it was hoped, would find its way to the sea through the canal, it was agreed that, should a sweet water canal be deemed necessary, the company were to be permitted to dig one, always at their own cost, from the Nile, starting from a point near to and above Cairo, to the shipcanal. They were to be the owners for ninetynine years of all the government land, then unoccupied, which lay along the banks of the canal, and which might be irrigated from it, free of taxes for ten years. At the expiration of ninetynine years, the entire works were to revert to the Government, upon the company being paid the value of their improvements. In case the charter should be renewed at the expiration of its term, the Government was to receive an increased share of the profits.

Nothing could be more business-like than this. The results which the enterprise promised were so great that its projectors could afford to do the entire work, at their own cost, and give to the grantor of the privilege fifteen per cent. of their profits. This percentage on the profits would compensate for the loss of traffic which the country then enjoyed from travelers and from merchandise in transit. But the grant was coupled with the express stipulation that the Khedive was not to be bound to anything regarding it unless the Sultan should approve of the scheme and give to it his assent. In point of fact, therefore, it was the Sultan who was to grant the necessary concessions. For this consent, however, the company did not wait, and they went to work.

Matters do not appear to have progressed very rapidly. The company had undertaken a great work, and, to perfect it, required a great deal of money. The money was not forthcoming. Subscription to the stock was slow. Capitalists were not eager to invest in such an undertaking. As usual, there were many croakers abroad. Every scheme of the sort finds many enemies. In England, particularly, it was looked upon with great disfavor, just as canals in that country were pronounced impracticable when they were first projected; in the United States, just as railroads were before they were built. Many people believed that the level of the Red Sea was so far below the level of the Mediterranean that, the canal once dug, all the waters of the latter would pour through it, leaving its bed dry. On the other hand, there were others who thought the level of the Mediterranean so far below the level of the Red Sea that the waters of the Indian Ocean would pour into it, and flood a great portion of the Continent of Europe. Capitalists were not eager to invest in an undertaking which threatened so

great a disaster. Besides, the money, when it came, was to come from Europe, and those who had it did not fancy sending it so far away from home, under so many conditions of doubt and peril.

To place themselves upon a better footing, the company obtained further concessions from the Viceroy (always subject, however, to the approval of the Sultan). Among other things, they were to be permitted to dig a fresh-water canal, starting from the point where the first one was to touch the marine canal, extending to the south as far as Suez, and to the north as far as Port Said. All the unoccupied land lying along the route of this projected canal, and belonging to the Government, which might be irrigated from it (amounting to many thousands of acres, and which only needs the Nile-water to make it most productive), was to belong to the company for ninety-nine years, and was to be free of taxes for ten years. They were to be allowed to demand pay for the water which the canal might furnish the proprietors of land in its neighborhood. They were to be allowed to charge ten francs per ton on vessels which might use the ship-canal, and ten francs toll on each passenger who might pass through it.

One stipulation only was made in the interest of the people of the country. As it was evident that the construction of these immense works would require the employment of a great number of laborers, it was agreed by the company that four fifths, at least, of the workmen to be employed upon them should be Egyptians. These the Khedive agreed to furnish. They were to be paid as follows: Those who were under twelve years of age were to receive two and a half piasters (about twelve and a half cents) per diem; those over twelve years of age were to receive three piasters (about fifteen cents) per diem; they were also to receive rations of the value of one piaster (about five cents) per diem, without regard to age. Lodging was to be provided for them, also hospitals, and transportation was to be furnished them to the point at which they were to work. The Khedive little dreamed, when he made this stipulation, which was clearly intended should benefit his people, that he was consigning upward of twenty thousand human beings to their graves, and that he would, in the end, be called upon, and forced, to pay an immense sum of money for it.

Even with these vast grants in their favor, the company stood in the presence of many difficulties. Although the first concession was made in November, 1854, and the second one in January, 1856, the subscription-books were not opened until November, 1858. To secure 400,000,000 francs (the estimated cost of the work) to be in