orientalcairocit00sladuoft

Arab Domestic Processions 259
the dim sky-lines of its tall mosques. But within the gate itself
silence was broken by a blind fikce and his wife, who were
intoning the Koran in a melancholy drawl to an audience
of nobody—merely accumulating virtue. We got into our
carriage again and drove on up the hill, casting a look backwards
at the vague fantastic outlines of the two great mina-
rets, which the El-Moayyad mosque has planted on the old
Saracenic towers of the Bab-es-Zuweyla. There was hardly
a single light in the street ; we almost drove into the Kismas-
el-Ishaky mosque in the gloom, and our way seemed to get
darker and darker as we drove down the Sharia Darb-el-/\hmar
and round the point of Mohammed Katkhoda's exquisite
fountain and Koran school.
But before we had gone much farther a blaze of light broke
upon our eyes. Festoons of lanterns and flags adorned with
the Khedivial emblem and Koran texts were looped across
the street, and right ahead of us was that great pilgrimage
and wedding marquee roofing in the entire square of the
mosque and filled with a blinding glare of electric light.
The interior of the marquee presented a very dififerent
spectacle from yesterday. In the high light of the great
chandeliers and crystal lamps, the noble Koran embroideries
with which it was lined positively glowed and the armchairs
and the long dikkas, covered with rich carpets and tapestries,
were filled by dignified-looking Arabs, mostly in rich native
dress. The speaker who was addressing them was almost the
only man in the place in European dress, and turbans far
outnumbered iarbAsIies. He had a beautiful delivery—beauti-
ful enough to give me great pleasure ; though of course 1
could not understand a word he was saying. Ramidge, who
was with us, said it was mild Nationalism, a sort of Egyptian
castles in Spain. And the big, gilt glass, tinselly-looking
fly-balls with which the marquee was hung to multiply reflec-
tions, seemed more appropriate. They were as big as foot-
balls. But the speaker flowed on and on, till it was more like
a sermon than a speech. But the audience continued rapt,
and almost reduced to tears.
After we had watched for a while from the outside our