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193 I arrived at Cairo by steamer at three oclock? in the morning. It was a dark & unclear winter night. The rain was falling heavily. At the landing place there was not a light, not a conveyance, not a porter, not a negro even to direct us the way to the Hotel. Self help was the only kind of help any of the passengers got that night. As I scrambled up the slippery Levee, & then waded throught the mud to the Hotel, distant about a quarter of a mile, I congratulated myself on my having sent on all my heavy luggage in advance, so that I had nothing with me but a hat-box, & a hand-bag. but these impediments were more than enough for the occasion. As I struggled on I thought that if the Author of Martin Chuzzlewit, who was then giving readings in America, unclear revisit his Eden under such circumstances, he wd not feel dissatisfied with the kind of immortality he had conferred upon it. The stream of Passengers at last reached the Hotel. There was no want of light here. This had been our beacon, & we felt that we had made the harbour.