"Mr. Vankovitch has discharged one of his under officers, an Armenian. The man is a friend of mine—will you ask Mr. Vankovitch to pardon my friend, and reinstate him in his situation?" "The officer is a thief," said the engineer, "for that reason I got rid of him. But this remark of our host will show you what sort of people these Armenians are. He is well aware that the fellow is a rogue. He knows that I do not wish to take him back; to try and make me do so, he asks you, who are ignorant of the circumstances, to intercede in the matter." "You will intercede?" said the host. "How can I? Mr. Vankovitch must know the man's character better than I do." "But Mr. Vankovitch would do it if you asked him." "I certainly shall not give him the opportunity of refusing," I replied. And seeing that I was obdurate, my host left off pressing me for the moment, but only to return to the attack on the following day. The next morning, and soon after daybreak, we assembled for the chase. The engineer had mounted me on a magnificent coal-black Arab. He himself rode a little bay, with good shoulders and fine action; whilst his wife, a Bosnian lady, who was attired in a light blue riding-habit, a hat with a peacock's feather, and who wore on her boot a long cavalry spur—was mounted on a chestnut. Vankovitch had slung his gun across his shoulders. His double-breasted shooting-coat was dotted with cartridge-cases in the Circassian style. He was an object of great interest to a crowd of bystanders, and was evidently the chasseur par excellence of Yuzgat. Some Turkish women, wrapped up in long white sheets, stared through the corners of their veils at Mrs. Vankovitch, and were very much astonished at the proceedings, for the lady was on a side-saddle, which the engineer had lately received from Constantinople. It was only the first or second time that it had been seen in Yuzgat. The giaour woman balanced on a peg on the side of the saddle was a source of considerable wonder to the assembled crowd. "How odd these giaours are!" said a Turk to his neighbour. "Why, even their women go out hunting! What a thing to ride on! Look, she has only one foot in the stirrup, and her other leg is across a peg in the saddle." "How could you sit cross-legged if you had on that very thin, long dressing-gown which she is wearing?" said another bystander. "But here come Daravish Bey and his brother. They are actually going with the Frank to the chase!" The attention of the crowd was now taken up by the new arrivals. The two Turkish gentlemen were both dressed alike in black cloaks lined with fur, and which descended to their heels. Gold necklaces passing through diamond rings encircled each man's neck. Red waistcoats, buttoned up high in front, exposed to view an inch or two of limp, unstarched shirt-front; loose black trousers covered their legs, and a blue and white shabrach their highly-gilded saddles.