Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

Suffering from ill health, George Walker has been recuperating for several months in Egypt. Bored and lonely in Cairo, he yearns to visit Suez and the Red Sea and so attaches himself to the party of a remote acquaintance travelling there. Upon arrival George realises he is as dissatisfied here as he was in Cairo. He begins to regret his decision until the mysterious Mahmoud al Ackbar appears, wishing to repay a favour and promising an elaborate trip to the Well of Moses. Touching on themes of pride and mistaken identity, this is a short and entertaining story from Anthony Trollope. Anthony Trollope (1815 – 1882) was a Victorian writer and author of 47 novels. He also wrote an autobiography, short stories and plays, travel articles, reviews and lectures. A prolific writer, he made no secret of the fact that money was his motivation for writing – an admission which raised eyebrows among his literary contemporaries at the time. The amount of works Trollope authored are testament to his belief in hard work. His first successful novel was The Warden followed by its sequel, Barchester Towers. The Chronicles of Barsetshire are perhaps his most well-known series of novels, though many of his works have been adapted for TV and radio, starring many familiar faces such as Alan Rickman, David Tennant, Bill Nighy and Tom Hollander. Alongside his literary career, Trollope also worked for some time for the Post Office and is credited with the introduction of the iconic post box to Britain. A memorial to Anthony Trollope was unveiled in Poets’ Corner in Westminster Abbey in 1993.

The door had been opened by the man in an old dressing-gown and slippers, whom I had seen sitting inside the gate. He was the Arab porter of the hotel, and as he marshaled the new visitors into the room, I heard him pronounce some sound similar to my own name, and perceived that he pointed me out to the most prominent person of those who then entered the apartment. This was a stout, portly man, dressed from head to foot in Eastern costume of the brightest colors. He wore not only the red fez cap which everybody wears—even I had accustomed myself to a fez cap—but a turban round it, of which the voluminous folds were snowy white. His face was fat, but not the least grave, and the lower part of it was enveloped in a magnificent beard, which projected round it on all sides, and touched his breast as he walked. It was a grand grizzled beard, and I acknowledged at a moment that it added a singular dignity to the appearance of the stranger. His flowing robe was of bright colors, and the under garment which fitted close round his breast, and then descended, becoming beneath his sash a pair of the loosest pantaloons—I might, perhaps, better describe them as bags—was a rich tawny silk. These loose pantaloons were tied close round his legs, above the ankle, and over a pair of scrupulously white stockings, and on his feet he wore a pair of yellow slippers. It was obvious to me at a glance that the Arab gentleman had got up in his best raiment, and that no expense had been spared on his suit.

Of all the spots on the world's surface that I, George Walker, of Friday Street, London, have ever visited, Suez in Egypt, at the head of the Red Sea, is by far the vilest, the most unpleasant, and the least interesting. There are no women there, no water, and no vegetation. It is surrounded, and indeed often filled, by a world of sand. A scorching sun is always overhead; and one is domiciled in a huge cavernous hotel, which seems to have been made purposely destitute of all the comforts of civilised life. Nevertheless, in looking back upon the week of my life which I spent there I always enjoy a certain sort of triumph; or rather, upon one day of that week, which lends a sort of halo not only to my sojourn at Suez, but to the whole period of my residence in Egypt.

Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) was one of the most successful, prolific and respected English novelists of the Victorian era. He wrote penetrating novels on political, social, and gender issues and conflicts of his day. In 1867 Trollope left his position in the British Post Office to run for Parliament as a Liberal candidate in 1868. After he lost, he concentrated entirely on his literary career. While continuing to produce novels rapidly, he also edited the St Paul's Magazine, which published several of his novels in serial form. His first major success came with The Warden (1855) - the first of six novels set in the fictional county of Barsetshire. The comic masterpiece Barchester Towers (1857) has probably become the best-known of these. Trollope's popularity and critical success diminished in his later years, but he continued to write prolifically, and some of his later novels have acquired a good reputation. In particular, critics generally acknowledge the sweeping satire The Way We Live Now (1875) as his masterpiece. In all, Trollope wrote forty-seven novels, as well as dozens of short stories and a few books on travel.