he thought of them with pleasure. We, however, remained in Africa, and saw him part with the greatest regret. The good wishes that we addressed to him when we pressed his hand on the day of his departure were sincere. good wishes brought good fortune to General Lamoriciere? This question may be answered by those who have followed him through his political

career.

Have these

Since this period, a great number of the companions whom the bivouac brought together, are separated; each now follows his own destiny, but they have none of them forgotten either the roads in the province of Oran, or the long gossips at Chateau-Neuf.

245

THE KABYLE EXPEDITION.

MAY, JUNE, JULY, 1851.

THOUGH Ali-Ben-Hamed had been a mauvais sujet in his youth, he was, of all those who visited the Café of Si Lakdar, at Constantine, my most intimate friend. His manners were uncouth, no doubt, but why complain of his ignorance of the refinements of civilization, of which we are so proud? A soldier in the service of the Bey, rich and poor by turns, patient and calm always; after discharging his last gun from the ramparts, in 1837, he retained nothing of the service but his moustachios, and that proud look of a domineering race which particularly distinguishes the Turk.

Towards the end of last April, being very anxious and restless at the idea that I should not be one of the party of the Kabyle expedition

whose departure was fixed for the commencement of the month of May, I took a stroll on the little square platform which is called the Place de Constantine, when Ali suddenly occurred to my mind. I had more than once got him to speak between those long puffs of tobacco, that he is so delighted in exhaling from the very depths of his lungs, and on these occasions we had exchanged stories of past times which always appear the pleasantest times of one's life. "He will perhaps relieve me," said I to myself, "from my ennui," so striding down the hill on the Rummel side, I struck into the narrow streets or rather lanes of the old town. The Café of Si-Likdar, is situated in the centre of the Arab quarter of Constantine, not far from a square, where several streets noted for traffic meet. The streets of the weaver, of the saddler, of the restaurateur, and of the blacksmith, cross each other just by this spot, where, no doubt, the Café was established on account of its central position. Here foreigners and the learned (of whom Constantine possesses a great many), come to enjoy, as they say, at least themselves, repose of mind; and surely the long vine twining its luxuriant tendrils along by arches overhead and all round, and the jasmine, and the roses,

and the really good music one hears there, might procure them this blessing. As I entered, Caddour, the landlord, saluted me, as was his wont, with a cordial bon jour, and I took my place by the side of some old Turks, friends of Ali, with whom I had often fought desperate battles at their favourite game of draughts. Ali was doubtless as much out of sorts as myself, for he answered all my questions with monosyllables. So at last, getting impatient, I called for draughts and fig brandy, a beverage, despite the precepts of the Koran, much relished by the Turks, and then commenced an obstinate combat with one of the guests of the Café.

Our backs leaning against the pillars that supported the building, and our legs crossed upon mats, we soon became so absorbed in our game as not to heed the clamorous crowd elbowing each other at two feet distance, in a street not more than four feet broad. I was just on the point of being beaten, and was thinking how I could best parry the last decisive blows of my antagonist, Ould-Adda, a Turk, when five or six guns rolling on our draft-board, upset all our wooden soldiers. A Kabyle gunsmith going home had stumbled, and fallen with his load.

"Son of a demon!" exclaimed my companion

in misfortune, and immediately, without saying a word, regained his composure.

"What made you call him so?" said I, when the damage was repaired.

"The fellow bears the stamp of him who created him!" replied the Turk. "These heads of stone keep the mark of their origin. The word of the Prophet, it is true, is wrapped round them as a garment, but it has never pierced deeper than the skin. They desert their country, they visit foreign lands, they force hands to labour, and that, not to satisfy wants, but to amass wealth. But riches should be gained, if coveted, not by toil, but by the sword. It is said that in the mountains of these savages there is no authority, that every one is a law to himself, that their women wear no veils, and that on fête days they dance like buffoons. With their blue eyes and their big bodies, and their legs enveloped in bad woollen wrappers, they look like what they are, the servants of the Lapidé (Satan)! Like animals, their bare skulls are exposed to the sun, and in winter they will shake the snow from their heads, like oxen."

"As bran never becomes flour, so an enemy never becomes a friend," here broke in Ali, after