[p.27]The next step was to find out when the local steamer would start
for Cairo, and accordingly I betook myself to the Transit Office. No
vessel was advertised; I was directed to call every evening till
satisfied. At last the fortunate event took place: a "weekly
departure," which, by the bye, occurred once every fortnight or so, was
in orders for the next day. I hurried to the office, but did not reach
it till past noon-the hour of idleness. A little, dark gentleman-Mr.
Green-so formed and dressed as exactly to resemble a liver-and-tan
bull-terrier, who with his heels on the table was dosing, cigar in
mouth, over the last "Galignani," positively refused, after a time,-for
at first he would not speak at all,-to let me take my passage till
three in the afternoon. I inquired when the boat started, upon which he
referred me, as I had spoken bad Italian, to the advertisement. I
pleaded inability to read or write, whereupon he testily cried Alle
nove! alle nove!-at nine! at nine! Still appearing uncertain, I drove
him out of his chair, when he rose with a curse and read 8 A.M. An
unhappy Eastern, depending upon what he said, would have been precisely
one hour too late.
Thus were we lapsing into the real good old East-Indian style of doing
business. Thus Anglo-Indicus orders his first clerk to execute some
commission; the senior, having "work" upon his hands, sends a junior;
the junior finds the sun hot, and passes on the word to a "peon;" the
"peon" charges a porter with the errand; and the porter quietly sits or
doses in his place, trusting that Fate will bring him out of the
scrape, but firmly resolved, though the shattered globe fall, not to
stir an inch.