"Dear Sir,

"I was honoured with your unexpected[74] and very obliging letter,
when on the point of leaving London, which prevented me from
acknowledging my obligation as quickly as I felt it sincerely. I am
endeavouring all in my power to be ready before Saturday--and even
if I should not succeed, I can only blame my own tardiness, which
will not the less enhance the benefit I have lost. I have only to
add my hope of forgiveness for all my trespasses on your time and
patience, and with my best wishes for your public and private
welfare, I have the honour to be, most truly, your obliged and most
obedient servant,

"BYRON."

[Footnote 74: He calls the letter of Mr. Croker "unexpected," because,
in their previous correspondence and interviews on the subject, that
gentleman had not been able to hold out so early a prospect of a
passage, nor one which was likely to be so agreeable in point of
society.]

* * * * *

So early as the autumn of this year, a fifth edition of The Giaour was
required; and again his fancy teemed with fresh materials for its pages.
The verses commencing "The browsing camels' bells are tinkling," and the
four pages that follow the line, "Yes, love indeed is light from
heaven," were all added at this time. Nor had the overflowings of his
mind even yet ceased, as I find in the poem, as it exists at present,
still further additions,--and, among them, those four brilliant lines,--