Owing to the activities of various warring factions he could not reach Gondar or Kwara province with its considerable Falasha population. He therefore headed for the Sudanese border at Metemma and thence returned via Gedaref and Kassala to Massa wa to embark for Suez. In July he reached Alexandria, where, accompanied by a Falasha lad whom he was taking to France to be educated, he proudly announced that 'my journey has been successful'. Soon he reached Paris - to the relief, one may suppose, of his family and friends, who, at one time, had thought that he had perished. Before the month was out he presented his report to the central committee of the Alliance, before whom he appeared in an elated mood, convinced that his labours would bear fruit.

He introduced the young Falasha whom he had brought with him and whom he would entrust to the care of the Alliance so that he might eventually return to his country as 'the teacher and the civilizing agent of myriads of men avid for the light'. All too soon, Halevy's high hopes were disappointed. The Alliance, having lost their early enthusiasm, instead of keeping the young man in France sent him to Cairo, where he died shortly afterwards.

In vivid language Halevy described his journey to the ancient land of Ethiopia and to the Falashas, about whom, he said, practically nothing was known but their name; who, despite disasters, have remained faithful to the sublime truths enshrined in the code of Sinai. He had no doubt that, notwithstanding their colour, they were Jews who worshipped the One God whom they acknowledged as the God of their ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They were dedicated to love for the Holy Land. Moreover, Halevy claimed, the name 'Falasha', 'which they give themselves', proves that in their own eyes they are strangers on Ethiopian soil.

He described the distribution of the Falashas, mentioned that they spoke both Agau and Amharic, and sketched their way oflife. In a corner of each Falasha village, he said, 'is found the place of worship or "mesgid", which is more like the sanctuaries of old than is the modern synagogue, and in the courtyard the sacrificial altar is built of undressed stone. The prayers of the faithful rise from the sacred area in praise of the Everlasting God for the well-being of Israel, in love of Jerusalem, in expectation of a happier future for all humanity, mixed with sighs and lamentations and cries of joy and hope.'