'If you care to see it we will go there when I have received my people.' He invited me to go with him to the reception; but, having seen the crowd outside, I thought it wisdom to go back rather to the village khan where I had left my horse, to warn Rashid to have things ready for a start, and get some breakfast.
I returned in two hours' time, to find the chief already mounted on a splendid charger, led by a no less splendid servant, setting forth in search of me, 'with half the world for tail,' as Rashid put it.
It was in truth a long procession which meandered down the steep and rocky pathway, deep in the shade of walls and overhanging trees, to the ravine, forded the stream, and climbed the other bank.
The village, when we reached it, was in great commotion, all its people crowding to the wide meydan, or levelled ground for horsemanship, spread out before the house which might be mine.

In the midst of this meydan there was a fine old carob tree, with a stone bench all round the foot of its enormous trunk.
The house itself was an old fortress, built of solid stone, with arrow slits as well as modern windows, and an arched doorway at the top of wide stone steps.

Against it nestled lesser houses of the village which seemed to climb up towards it for protection.
Some men of consequence came forth to greet the chief, who then dismounted with their servile aid.

He introduced me to a turbaned Druze of reverend appearance, who (he said) at present occupied the house, and also to the son of the said turbaned Druze, who knew a little French and longed to air it.
The turbaned one, whose name was Sheykh Huseyn, was called on to refresh his chieftain's memory with regard to various details of the house and property and all the feudal rights and privileges appertaining thereunto.

He did so, as in duty bound, but in a very mournful tone.
His son explained: Tu fiens habiter, nous defons quitter.