The only thing that was now left to trouble me was this mournful face of Almah.
Why did she look at me with such sad interest and such melancholy meaning?
Did she know of any evil fate in store for me?
Yet how could there be any evil fate to be feared from people who had received me with such unparalleled generosity?
No, it could not be; so I resolved to try to bring back again the smile that had faded out of her face.
I pointed to her, and said, "Almah." She said, "Atam-or." And the smile did not come back, but the sadness remained in her face.
My eager desire now was to learn her language, and I resolved at once to acquire as many words and phrases as possible.

I began by asking the names of things, such as "seat," "table," "mat," "coat," "hat," "shoe," "lamp," "floor," "wall," and all the common objects around.
She gave all the names, and soon became so deeply interested that her sadness departed, and the smile came back once more.

For my own part, I was always rather quick at learning languages.

I had a correct ear and a retentive memory; in my wanderings round the world I had picked up a smattering of many languages, such as French, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, German, Hindoostanee, and a few others.

The words which I learned from Almah had a remote resemblance to Arabic; and, in fact, my knowledge of Arabic was actually of some assistance, though how it was that these people should have a language with that resemblance was certainly a mystery, and I did not try to solve it.