"That is what I said to him," replied the lady. "If he had his own way, he would give a ball there before long."
It would rather astonish English people if they were told that a person holding the position of a Secretary of Embassy was inhabiting a building which in this country is reserved for the impecunious, but no one in Russia thinks anything of such matters; there are so many princes. Not many years ago, a prince could have been seen cleaning the visitors' boots at Dusaux's Hotel in Moscow.
It was Friday, December the 8th, 1876. I have always been a disbeliever in the sailors' superstition about leaving a port on a Friday, and although several of my friends, particularly the Greek, entreated me to postpone my departure till the following day, I determined to run the risk of offending the Fates, and at once to commence my journey.
The street in front of the Hôtel Luxembourg was filled with a crowd of idlers from an early hour. It had been rumoured about that the Giaour was mad enough to wish to go to Kars from Scutari by land, instead of by the Black Sea and Erzeroum, and that he was about to start. The Turk had spread the news. His friends and family had come to see him off. In the meantime, he himself was busily engaged in loading the pack-horses, but occasionally found time to glance superciliously at his admiring and awe-struck relatives. At last everything was ready; giving Osman the little travelling sword, I desired him to strap it round his waist. The crowd of relations were now more excited than before. The bystanders took the liveliest interest in the proceedings. "Osman has got a sword," said one. "He is buckling it on," said another.
Osman's air of importance increased tenfold when I desired him to sling my little sporting-rifle on his shoulder. There was a faint approach to a cheer from a little boy in the crowd. This was instantly suppressed, and in the midst of all the excitement we rode down the streets of Pera.
Several friends of mine were staying at the Hôtel Royal; as we passed their windows they invited me to take a stirrup-cup, and in addition poured out a bumper for the Turk. However, Osman could not be induced to drink. He was more particular in this respect than many of his fellow-countrymen. He handed the glass to Radford. The latter was not displeased at the Turk's religious scruples, as he thus got two glasses for himself instead of one. He at once tossed off the contents, and smiling benignantly returned the tumbler to his companion. I now shook hands with my friends at the Royal, and we continued our journey towards the port.
"Good-bye, old fellow," cried my hospitable entertainers.
"We shall meet again soon," was my answer.
"Let us hope this side of Hades," said another, and we rode onward towards Galata.
An acquaintance, a Greek gentleman, accompanied me as far as the port. Here I discovered that one boat for Scutari had just started, and that it would be at least three hours before there would be another. This threw out my plans. I had wished to march my horses about five hours that day, but in consequence of the delay, and the shortness of the evenings at this season of the year, night would be on us before we had left Scutari.