When I arrived at Cairo I summoned Osman Effendi, who was, as I
knew, the owner of several houses, and would be able to provide me
with apartments. He had no difficulty in doing this, for there was
not one European traveller in Cairo besides myself. Poor Osman! he
met me with a sorrowful countenance, for the fear of the plague sat
heavily on his soul. He seemed as if he felt that he was doing
wrong in lending me a resting-place, and he betrayed such a
listlessness about temporal matters, as one might look for in a man
who believed that his days were numbered. He caught me too soon
after my arrival coming out from the public baths, {33} and from
that time forward he was sadly afraid of me, for he shared the
opinions of Europeans with respect to the effect of contagion.
Osman's history is a curious one. He was a Scotchman born, and
when very young, being then a drummer-boy, he landed in Egypt with
Fraser's force. He was taken prisoner, and according to Mahometan
custom, the alternative of death or the Koran was offered to him;
he did not choose death, and therefore went through the ceremonies
which were necessary for turning him into a good Mahometan.
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