On the morrow I received a visit from the chief of the Telegraph department in Ismid—an Armenian who spoke French. On showing him a letter of introduction which I had received at Constantinople, for the Christian dignitaries in Ismid, he at once became very communicative, and hastened to relate a grievance which, according to him, an Armenian had lately suffered owing to Turkish misrule. It appeared that this man had borrowed money from a Turk, and had given his wife's earrings and necklace as security for the debt. The arrangements for the loan had been made in the presence of my informant. "But now," he continued, "comes the pith of the story. The Turk died. The Armenian, paying the debt to the dead man's heirs, asked for his wife's necklace and earrings. The Turk's family would not give them up. The Armenian appealed to the Cadi. The Cadi would not do justice, because it was the word of a Christian against the testimony of a Turk; and in such instances an Armenian's evidence goes for nothing. However," added the speaker, "I telegraphed to the authorities in Constantinople. An order at once came for justice to be done." Later on I walked through the town. It is built in the form of a half-moon, and is erected on the heights around the shore. Tiers and tiers of houses are perched up in out-of-the-way corners. Here a solitary one stands aloof like an eagle's nest and far above its fellows. No order has been followed in the construction of these houses. Every sort of shape and pattern is to be seen. Many of them are like Swiss chalets. Their wooden walls are bright with an infinite variety of hues. It was, apparently, a washing-day. The nether garments and shirts of Turks and Christians were suspended from every window-sill. This apparel was of all the colours in the rainbow, and lit up the scene still more. There were a few well-built stone buildings—amongst them the palace of the Pacha. I called upon this official in the afternoon, and found him a tall, fine-looking man, considerably over six feet in height. He was seated in European fashion upon a sofa, and not squatted on the floor like some others of his countrymen who were present at the time of my visit. He spoke French fluently, and also Russian, having spent some years in the Turkish Consulate in Odessa; his residence there had not inspired him with any affection for the subjects of the Tzar, whom he cordially detested. "Your minister, Mr. Gladstone, hates us poor Turks quite as much as the Russians do," presently remarked the Pacha. "Mr. Gladstone is not a minister," I remarked, "he is not by any means omnipotent in England. A great many of my countrymen have already evinced their sympathy for your nation." "Yes," said the Pacha, "that is true, they have sent medicines to our wounded soldiery. Gladstone is what you call a Liberal, is he not?" "He is one of the leaders of the Liberal Party, and was its chief till he was turned out by the actual Government."