I continued attending the Sultana. She was much better and was very kind. She read poetry to me, and commenced teaching me to talk Persian. One day she said in Persian,
“Say this ——” and she repeated some sentence.
In my weariness, for it was in the middle of the night, I mechanically repeated after her, “Say this ——” and I gave the sentence. At once the Page boys and the girls behind the curtains burst out laughing.
As we came away I said to the Armenian, “Why were you so sulky to-night?”
He had sat very glum in the Harem Serai. He said—
“Sir, you European, and, perhaps, no harm come for you—but for me, Amîr Sahib blow me from gun if Her Highness laugh while I there.”
I was considerably taken aback.
Meanwhile, I was working down the chloral: I had got fifteen grains less; but I couldn’t stop the chillim.
There was no longer any necessity for me to live in His Highness’s Pavilion, and he gave orders for quarters to be prepared for me in the Prince’s quadrangle near by, so that I could be on the spot in case of necessity.
The room was curtained and carpeted, and wood for the fire provided. My servants came to wait upon me. An arm-chair of His Highness’s was sent, a table, and candelabra. My friend, Shere Ali, came to see me frequently; and the Page boys at all hours. I visited the Amîr twice a day. Sometimes, he invited me to sit on the very couch he was lying on, and he told me many interesting stories of his adventures in Russia.