"Probably in three days' time." "Well," continued the governor, "you will pass by Erzingan, where I have some property, and I hope you will stay in my house. Nay, no thanks. It will be doing me an honour, and I have written for rooms to be prepared. I shall send some Zaptiehs with you," he added. "I do not want any." "Nay, but you must have some. You will have terrible hard work in crossing the mountains between this and Divriki. There are already two or three feet of snow on the track. In some places you will require men to dig a way before your party. You do not know what the cold is in this country," he continued. "I was once nearly frozen to death myself, going from Kars to Erzeroum, just about the time of the Crimean war. I had 500 soldiers with me; a snow-storm came on, we lost our way. My men strayed in different directions. I had furs, and was able to resist the cold, but when we counted up my party the next morning, more than half the men were frost-bitten, and several had died during the night. There is another reason why you require several guides," added the governor. "The path over the mountains is covered with snow, and there are deep chasms and fissures alongside the track, some of them are more than a hundred feet deep. The guides carry poles, and will sound the path before your horses, otherwise you will not have much chance of reaching Kars." "The Conference is over," said the Pacha, as he rose from the divan. "The news has been telegraphed to us from Constantinople." "What has been the result of it?" I inquired. "Nothing! What else could you expect? Particularly when Russia, the cause and origin of all our difficulties, was permitted to have a representative at the Conference—and such a representative—for General Ignatieff is a cunning old fox!" Then shaking hands with me—which I afterwards learned from Mohammed was a very great honour—the Pacha waddled downstairs, and drove to his official residence. Later in the day I rode to the missionaries' home, a pleasant little house situated in the outskirts of the town. On their arrival in Sivas they had taken an abode from some Armenians, but the latter demanded such an exorbitant rent for the house in question that the missionaries determined to build one for themselves. My friends' names were Perry, Hubbard, and Riggs. They received me with that hospitality which an Englishman always receives from Americans, no matter whether they meet him in the States or elsewhere. Two of these gentlemen had brought their wives with them from America. Several ruddy-faced and pretty children who were playing in the room showed that the climate of Sivas was in no way an unhealthy one.