"Then he'll find something just as original," was my triumphant retort.
Nevertheless it was growing dark, and there were rivers ahead that would seem to demand rather better security than we possessed. My anxieties, however, were soon scattered to the four winds by the most astonishing tirade of unjust contempt for all things English, in which my companion now proceeded to indulge. My anger lasted just long enough for us to cross the river; for once we were over, the good man explained that he'd done it to make me furious, the only way he knew to cure a brave woman's fit of nerves.
At last the welcome smoke, rising from peat cottage-fires, brings the comforting knowledge that we have almost reached Enichéir; and we are soon happily searching for some sort of a resting place that may call itself "an inn." We are offered the choice of four beds in a room with five others already occupied, or an empty, partially wrecked, sleeping apartment containing two!—one for me, one for the boys, and the American on the floor.
We naturally accept the latter, and immediately get busy about some cooking and a wash. After the day's roughening experiences one can sleep whatever the details of the accommodation!
At about 9.30 that evening we are awakened by the police, who, however, explain that I am only "wanted" by the Commandant, who has called to wish me bon voyage, and inquire if there is anything he can do for my comfort or to speed me on the way.
"It is not now the Pasha and four wives," said I, as our visitor soon discreetly left us, "but the English-woman and three husbands!"
Next morning after a pleasant hour of mutual assistance in heating the water and holding a looking-glass for each other, with, as I told them, "the most courtly assistants any woman could desire," the American goes out in order to fix that wheel
