to us, and deserved recompense. "God knows," said he to Francois, “in what corner of the mountains you might now be, if I had not accompanied you.” "Oh,” replied Francois, "there are always plenty of people among the woods, who would have been equally as kind as yourself in showing us the way.” He then spoke of the robbers in the neighborhood, and pointed out some graves by the road-side, as those of persons who had been murdered. "But,” he added, "everybody in these parts knows me, and whoever is in company with me is always safe.” The Greek assured him that we always depended on ourselves for our safety. Defeated on these tacks, he boldly affirmed that his services were worthy of payment. "But,” said Francois, "you told us at the village that you had business in Kiutahya, and would be glad to join us for the sake of having company on the road.” "Well, then,” rejoined the old fellow, making a last effort, “I leave the matter to your politeness. “Certainly,” replied the imperturbable dragoman, "we could not be so impolite as to offer money to a man of your wealth and station; we could not insult you by giving you alms.” The old Turcoman thereupon gave a shrug and a grunt, made a sullen good-by salutation, and left us.
It was nearly six o'clock when we reached the Pursek. There was no sign of the city, but we could barely discern an old fortress on the lofty cliff which commands the town. A long stone bridge crossed the river, which here separates into half a dozen channels. The waters are swift and clear, and wind away in devious mazes through the broad green meadows. We hurried on, thinking we saw minarets in the distance, but they proved to be poplars. The sun sank lower and lower, and finally went down before there was any token of our being in
