s Portugal--loses no
opportunity of undermining Grecian influence in Morocco, and in
this certain of his colleagues have undoubtedly not been far
behind him.

"Nevertheless, whatever causes may have been at work in bringing
about this crisis, it is one which cannot be tided over, but which
must be fairly faced. Greece has but one course before her."

XXVI

PRISONERS AND CAPTIVES

"Misfortune is misfortune's heir."
_Moorish Proverb._

Externally the gaol of Tangier does not differ greatly in appearance
from an ordinary Moorish house, and even internally it is of the
plan which prevails throughout the native buildings from fandaks to
palaces. A door-way in a blank wall, once whitewashed, gives access to
a kind of lobby, such as might precede the entrance to some grandee's
house, but instead of being neat and clean, it is filthy and dank, and
an unwholesome odour pervades the air. On a low bench at the far end
lie a guard or two in dirty garments, fitting ornaments for such a
place. By them is the low-barred entrance to the prison, with a hole
in the centre the size of such a face as often fills it, wan and
hopeless. A clanking of chains, a confused din of voices, and an
occasional moan are borne through the opening on the stench-laden
atmosphere. "All hope abandon, ye who enter here!" could never have
been written on portal more appropriate than this, unless he who
entered had friends and money. Here are forgotten good and bad, the
tried and the untried, just and unjust together, sunk in a night of
blank despair, a living grave.

Around an open courtyard, protected by an iron grating at the top, is
a row of dirty columns, and behind them a kind of arcade, on to which
open a number of doorless chambers. Filth is apparent everywhere, and
to the stifling odour of that unwashed horde is added that caused by
insanitary drainage. To some of the pillars are chained poor wretches
little more than skeletons, while a cable of considerable length
secures others. It is locked at one end to a staple outside the door
under which it passes, and is threaded through rings on the iron
collars of half a dozen prisoners who have been brought in as rebels
from a distant province. For thirteen days they have tramped thus,
carrying that chain, holding it up by their hands to save their
shoulders, and two empty rings still threaded on show that when they
started they numbered eight. Since the end ring