flask in the other. "That's my name; I'm Jones. Can I do anything
for you, sir?"

"Why, yes, you can," said he. "My name is Smith,--John Smith."

"Pray sit down, Mr. Smith," I said, pointing to a chair. "Will you
do anything in this way?" and I proposed to hand the bottle to him.
"As far as I can judge from a short stay, you won't find much like
that in Jerusalem."

He declined the Cognac, however, and immediately began his story.
"I hear, Mr. Jones," said he, "that you are going to Moab to-
morrow."

"Well," I replied, "I don't know whether I shall cross the water.
It's not very easy, I take it, at all times; but I shall certainly
get as far as Jordan. Can I do anything for you in those parts?"

And then he explained to me what was the object of his visit. He
was quite alone in Jerusalem, as I was myself; and was staying at H-
's hotel. He had heard that I was starting for the Dead Sea, and
had called to ask if I objected to his joining me. He had found
himself, he said, very lonely; and as he had heard that I also was
alone, he had ventured to call and make his proposition. He seemed
to be very bashful, and half ashamed of what he was doing; and when
he had done speaking he declared himself conscious that he was
intruding, and expressed a hope that I would not hesitate to say so
if his suggestion were from any cause disagreeable to me.

As a rule I am rather shy of chance travelling English friends. It