As in the case of "the Duke's" house, so here, all the womenkind were hidden away on account of the Consul. Mohammedans are jealous and suspicious of their wives and daughters to a degree, and strongly resent, if not prevent, an Englishman's going up on to the flat roof, lest he have a view of fair occupants beyond or below. Nevertheless, the wives always contrive to peep out of some loophole and see all there is to be seen.
Hadj Mukhtar Hilalli received us all three alone, as a matter of course, and led us upstairs to his best room. Like many others among the better class of Moors, our host had a shop and himself sold groceries. At the same time his sister is the wife of one of the Ministers; and as there is no respect of persons in Morocco, Hadj Mukhtar Hilalli might be called upon himself any day to fill a high official position, and be obliged to go, raising money, if he had not wherewithal to support the post, which, if a lucrative one, would soon repay the outlay.
Trade at Tetuan, and apparently everywhere else over Morocco, is not what it once was: the old flintlocks, inlaid with silver wire and lumps of pink coral, are unknown since the last gun-maker died; snuff-nuts, even slippers, do but a small business. Living is more expensive than it was: it cost Hadj Mukhtar three shillings a day to feed himself and the whole household, he said.
The room into which we went--our host leaving his yellow slippers in the doorway, and motioning us all to sit down on the divans round the walls--was hung with a silk dado, tiled in mosaic, and overlooked a good-sized patio with a running fountain.
Our dirty boots compared unfavourably with the Hadj's clean, bare feet, which, as he sat down cross-legged on the white and embroidered cushions, were hidden underneath his voluminous garments; whereas ours, not to the manner born, contracted cramp, unless stuck out in an ungainly way.
A gorgeously upholstered bed filled up one corner of the room; a gun hung on the wall. There was nothing else.
Three little sons of the house and Mr. Bewicke's soldier-servant having followed us in and seated themselves, preparations for tea--already waiting, arranged in front of the divans on four brass trays, standing on four low tables a few inches high--began.