DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.12664#0279
264
INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
stripes, turning it with all their might. In the
general eagerness to help, they kept on turning
until they had carried Paul above the window,
and brought his neck up short under the beam, his
feet struggling to hold on to the sill of the door.
He roared out lustily in Greek and Arabic; and
while they were helping to disencumber him of
his multifarious armour, he was cursing and bera-
ting them for a set of blundering workmen, who
had almost broken the neck of as good a Christian
as any among them. Probably, since the last in-
cursion of the Bedouins, the peaceful walls of the
convent had not been disturbed by such an infer-
nal clatter.
The monks had been roused from sleep, and some
of them were hardly yet awake ; the superior was
the last who came, and his presence quickly re-
stored order. He was a remarkably noble-look-
ing old man, of more than sixty. He asked me
my country, and called me his child, and told me
that God would reward me for coming from so
distant a land to do homage on the holy mountain ;
and I did not deny the character he ascribed to
me, or correct his mistake in supposing that the
motive of my journey was purely religious ; and,
looking upon me as a devout pilgrim, he led me
through a long range of winding passages, which
seemed like the streets of a city, into a small room
spread with mats, having a pile of coverlets in one
corner, and wearing an appearance of comfort that
could be fully appreciated by one who had then
spent ten nights in the desert. I threw myself
INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
stripes, turning it with all their might. In the
general eagerness to help, they kept on turning
until they had carried Paul above the window,
and brought his neck up short under the beam, his
feet struggling to hold on to the sill of the door.
He roared out lustily in Greek and Arabic; and
while they were helping to disencumber him of
his multifarious armour, he was cursing and bera-
ting them for a set of blundering workmen, who
had almost broken the neck of as good a Christian
as any among them. Probably, since the last in-
cursion of the Bedouins, the peaceful walls of the
convent had not been disturbed by such an infer-
nal clatter.
The monks had been roused from sleep, and some
of them were hardly yet awake ; the superior was
the last who came, and his presence quickly re-
stored order. He was a remarkably noble-look-
ing old man, of more than sixty. He asked me
my country, and called me his child, and told me
that God would reward me for coming from so
distant a land to do homage on the holy mountain ;
and I did not deny the character he ascribed to
me, or correct his mistake in supposing that the
motive of my journey was purely religious ; and,
looking upon me as a devout pilgrim, he led me
through a long range of winding passages, which
seemed like the streets of a city, into a small room
spread with mats, having a pile of coverlets in one
corner, and wearing an appearance of comfort that
could be fully appreciated by one who had then
spent ten nights in the desert. I threw myself