"This is not a journey, Bruno; it is simply 'another way' that Kéraban is taking me home to dine with him!"
But this way of looking at things did not suit Bruno. He did not like moving; and here he was destined to be travelling about for weeks—perhaps months—across various countries; interesting, no doubt, but difficult and dangerous. Besides, the fatigue consequent upon such a journey would reduce him considerably in size and weight, and he would lose some of those hundred and sixty-seven pounds which he valued so highly.
Then his lamentable refrain came to his master's ears over and over again,—
"Something will happen to you, sir; something evil will come of it, I tell you."
"We shall see in good time," replied the Dutchman. "Meanwhile collect our luggage, while I go and purchase a 'Guide' of the countries, and a note-book to record our impressions. Then you can return here and go to bed—or rest yourself."
"When?"
"When we have made the tour of the Black Sea, for it is fated we must make it."
With this fatalism, which a Mussulman need not have been ashamed of, Bruno shook his head and departed. The journey certainly did not commend itself to him.
Two hours later, Bruno came back with the baggage carried by stout porters. These were the natives whom Théophile Gautier called "two-footed camels without humps."
The "gibbosity," however, was not wanting in this instance, for the men carried heavy packs or trunks on their backs. These were deposited in the court-yard, and the chaise was loaded.
Meantime Kéraban was putting his affairs in order, and giving instructions to his clerks and managers. He wrote some letters, and drew a large sum in gold, as paper money was depreciated. He required Russian money, too, and he proposed to change his Ottoman gold at the caisse of his friend Selim, the banker, at Odessa.
