Still I did all I could, and then hurried on to Cairo.
I have not tried to give any detailed account of my journeys, nor of the alternate feelings of hope and despair that possessed me.

This must be left to the imagination of my readers.

Let them remember the circumstances of the story as I have related them, let them think of how much depended on my discovery of Kaffar, let them also try to fancy something of my feelings, and then they will be able to guess at my weary nights and anxious days, they will know how feverishly I hurried from port to port and from town to town.

Anyhow, I will not try to describe them, for I should miserably fail.
Cairo was comparatively empty.

The heat had driven the tourists away to colder climes.