heard of a slave running away from Kingsley Bey, or had she ever heard
of a case of cruelty on his part? Her reply was that he had given slaves
the kourbash, and had even shot them. Dicky thereupon suggested that
Kingsley Bey was a government, and that the kourbash was not yet
abolished in the English navy, for instance; also that men had to be shot
sometimes.

At last she had made a direct appeal to Kingsley Bey. She sent an
embassy to him--Dicky prevented her from going herself; he said he would
have her deported straightway, if she attempted it. She was not in such
deadly earnest that she did not know he would keep his word, and that the
Consulate could not help her would have no time to do so. So, she
confined herself to an elaborate letter, written in admirable English and
inspired by most noble sentiments. The beauty that was in her face was
in her letter in even a greater degree. It was very adroit, too, very
ably argued, and the moral appeal was delicate and touching, put with an
eloquence at once direct and arresting. The invocation with which the
letter ended was, as Kingsley Bey afterwards put it, "a pitch of poetry
and humanity never reached except by a Wagner opera."

Kingsley Bey's response to the appeal was a letter to the lady, brought
by a sarraf, a mamour and six slaves, beautifully mounted and armed,
saying that he had been deeply moved by her appeal, and as a proof of the
effect of her letter, she might free the six slaves of his embassy. This
she straightway did joyfully, and when they said they wished to go to
Cairo, she saw them and their horses off on the boat with gladness, and
she shook them each by the hand and prayed Heaven in their language to
give them long plumes of life and happiness. Arrived at Cairo these
freemen of Assiout did as they had been ordered by Kingsley--found
Donovan Pasha, delivered a certain letter to him, and then proceeded,