In consequence of this I determined to follow the advice of an Englishman who knew Turkey well, and take a Mohammedan servant, who could speak no other language than his own. In that case he would be less likely to have learned any bad habits from the Armenians, and at the same time I should be compelled to speak to him in Turkish, and thus improve my knowledge of that language. The next morning a Turk came to the hotel, and offered himself for the situation. He was dressed in the Circassian style, and wore a short brown serge jacket, dotted across the breast with empty cartridge cases. His head was covered by a red fez or cap, encircled by a green turban. A loose pair of light blue trousers, fastened at the waist by a crimson sash, and a pair of boots, half-way up the knee, completed his attire. He was a tall, fine-looking fellow, and said that he had previously been coachman to a Pacha, that he was a good groom, and would be faithful to me as an Arab steed to his Arab master. It was a pretty speech, but as I had seen some horses in the desert which invariably kicked whenever their master approached them, it did not produce the effect upon my mind which probably the faithful man desired. However I was in a hurry to get a servant; so I agreed to take the fellow, and give him 4_l._ per month and his food. In the meantime he said that he knew of some horses for sale, and that he would bring them to the hotel in the course of a few days. I had previously ascertained that my best plan would be to purchase a stud in Constantinople. In many parts of my proposed journey I should be off the postal track, and then it would be difficult to hire any horses—indeed it would sometimes be impossible, as the natives in certain parts of Kurdistan make use of buffaloes as a means of locomotion. I had once ridden a cow during an African journey. The motion is very uncomfortable; I had no wish to repeat the experiment with a buffalo. Later on an invitation arrived for me to breakfast with Mr. Schuyler, the distinguished diplomatist, and the author of the highly-interesting volume, "Turkistan." On arriving at his house I found some of the guests already assembled. Amongst others, there were Mr. Gallenga, the _Times'_ correspondent, and Mr. White, our consul at Belgrade. Presently there was a ring at the bell, and who should come in but Mr. Sala, the well-known correspondent of the _Daily Telegraph_. His arrival was quite an unexpected pleasure for our host. Mr. Sala had only reached Constantinople half an hour before, and had come to us straight from the harbour. He had left England about three weeks previously, and first had gone to St. Petersburg. Here he had been introduced to several Russian journalists. He related in a very amusing way their conversation about England's policy towards Turkey, an account of which Mr. Sala had duly posted to the _Daily Telegraph_.