Several friends of mine were staying at the Hôtel Royal; as we passed their windows they invited me to take a stirrup-cup, and in addition poured out a bumper for the Turk. However, Osman could not be induced to drink. He was more particular in this respect than many of his fellow-countrymen. He handed the glass to Radford. The latter was not displeased at the Turk's religious scruples, as he thus got two glasses for himself instead of one. He at once tossed off the contents, and smiling benignantly returned the tumbler to his companion. I now shook hands with my friends at the Royal, and we continued our journey towards the port. "Good-bye, old fellow," cried my hospitable entertainers. "We shall meet again soon," was my answer. "Let us hope this side of Hades," said another, and we rode onward towards Galata. An acquaintance, a Greek gentleman, accompanied me as far as the port. Here I discovered that one boat for Scutari had just started, and that it would be at least three hours before there would be another. This threw out my plans. I had wished to march my horses about five hours that day, but in consequence of the delay, and the shortness of the evenings at this season of the year, night would be on us before we had left Scutari. The steamer arrived. A wide platform was pushed out from the deck to the shore, and two carriages with some horses, belonging to a Turkish Bey, were taken on board. Then came Radford and Osman, each leading two horses: I followed with the little grey. The carriages and animals belonging to the Bey were placed towards the bow of the vessel, and the other horses near the engines.