not had the wine he spoke of. We were all fagged enough to find our beds
on the floor capital; and the next day we visited the Bey.

'January 16, 1825.--I am now at sea and had intended this letter from
Alexandria, and, as I said before, it was to be short; but now I shall
send it from Malta, and it is to be long.

'But to resume my story. When we arrived at the palace he was dining in
the Kiosk with some of his friends, and we had to wait a little while
until the repast was ended when we were ushered in. He received us very
haughtily, and in a manner not at all consistent with the kind messages
he had sent us. Pipes and Coffee were served, and the conversation was
rather slack. At his feet sat one of the most extraordinary figures I
ever saw in my life; a countenance more devilish was never given to
Dervish before. After we had been seated some time, this man, who had
never opened his lips but had eyed us with the greatest attention and
ferocity, at length began to mutter, "Kenkalis, Kenkalis, taib ben"
("English, English, I hope you are well"). This was one of those
privileged people which in these countries are called Dervishes, who are
dreaded and respected by the superstitious, and who afford amusement by
their extraordinary antics to others. They have the _entree_ of all
houses great or small, rich or poor, and are never refused food or
raiment: it being in itself a crime, to insult or offend all who are in
any way extraordinary: the more mad, the more sacred the person. Madness
in Turkey is an excellent trade.

'At length I soon discovered how it was that my new friend the Bey was
thus: his friends (Turks) rose to depart, so did I but he desired me to
sit down again. The moment the Turks had departed he was a new man. I
have never been so pleased with any Turk in my life as with Ali Bey. His