"There is the contrast, you see, to emphasize it."
While these men exchanged their views, the Turks were regarding them not without a kind of envy.
"They are happy, those Franks," said one of the subjects of the Sultan. "They can eat, drink, and smoke as they please."
"No doubt," replied his companion; "but they cannot at this moment procure a kébal of mutton, nor a pilaw of nice fowl and rice, nor a cake of baklava—not even a slice of water-melon or cucumber."
"Because they are ignorant of the right places in which to find them. By means of a few piastres one can always find willing vendors who have received the dispensation of the prophet."
"By Allah," said his friend, "my cigarettes are drying up in my pocket, I cannot lose so much good tobacco."
So at the risk of his future happiness, the "Believer," who paid little attention to his creed, took out a cigarette and, lighting it, puffed rapidly the perfumed weed.
"Look out," said his companion; "if some ulema less tolerant than usual should see you—"
"Oh, I can soon swallow the smoke—he will see nothing," replied the faithful one.
Thus these men continued their promenade, lounging up and down the square, and subsequently disappearing up one of the narrow streets which lead to Pera and Galata.
"This is certainly a singular city," said Bruno as he gazed around him. "Ever since we left our hotel, I have scarcely seen even the "ghost" of a native. There are only phantoms in Constantinople apparently. The people and the place seem to be equally asleep; even the dogs, yellow and lean as they are, will scarcely trouble themselves to bite you. After all that travellers have said, I cannot see the object in travelling. What do you gain by it? I would rather be in our own city of Rotterdam, under the grey sky of Holland."
"Patience, Bruno, patience," said the calm Van Mitten. "We have only been here a few hours yet. Nevertheless, I cannot say this is altogether the Constantinople I had pictured to myself. I fancied we should plunge into the
