"I wish I had," was my answer; "but I am here only as a 'traveller.'" We retraced our steps along the route of the previous day, marching for some time by the bank of the river. Presently I came to a well-built stone bridge. It spans the stream, which is here about forty yards wide, besides being very rapid and deep. Soon afterwards the path traversed a spacious plain, formerly the battle field of Tamerlane. At one end of this plain, and on a hill, or rather ridge of hills, is Angora. Its ruined battlements and lofty minarets stand out conspicuously. The town itself lies rather in the background and on a slope. A Zaptieh met us as we were entering a narrow street, and said that a Turkish gentleman had sent him to escort me to his house. On we rode, through many dirty lanes, until I finally entered a wide yard. This court was overlooked by a large and handsome building. "Suleiman Effendi lives here," said the Zaptieh. The gentleman to whom he alluded now appeared descending some stone steps which gave access to the courtyard. He approached us, and aided me to dismount; then, taking my hand, he led me into a large room furnished with chairs, as well as with a divan, and carpeted with rich Persian rugs. Advancing to the place of honour, in the centre of the divan, he asked me to be seated, and sat down by my side. Several of his friends being accommodated on the floor. Suleiman Effendi was dressed in European fashion, with the exception of his fez. He had a very fair knowledge of Arabic; I soon found that he was well posted in European politics. "I heard that an Englishman was on his way to Angora," he said, "and determined that you should be my guest. We received the news about you from Ismid." "Are there any other Englishmen here?" I inquired. "Only one—the Vice-Consul, a merchant: but I will send and let him know that you have arrived. In the meantime have a glass of raki." Proceeding to a cabinet in the wall, Suleiman carefully unlocked it, and produced a decanter with some glasses. "Thanks, I do not drink spirits." "No more do I," replied Suleiman, laughing; "only medicinally, you know;" and he drank off a bumper. In a few minutes the English Vice-Consul arrived. He was dressed in his official uniform, and was accompanied by a young Bulgarian, who was a merchant in the same business as himself. Mr. —— was very surprised to see an Englishman in Angora, no one of our nation having visited that town for several years past; and he informed me that a telegram had just been received from Constantinople with reference to the proclamation of a Constitution. In consequence of this the town of Angora was to be illuminated on the following evening; cannon would be fired, and the Pacha would read the telegram to the populace in the courtyard of the palace. "What does it—the Constitution—mean?" I inquired. "Mean?" replied the Bulgarian, who spoke English perfectly; "it means a quantity of promises which the Government will never fulfil."