These varied scenes of life, in which I moved during my incognito, were far from being devoid of attractions, as many a prejudiced European might imagine, although they naturally could fascinate but for a time. I was truly frightened one day, when the Khan of Khiva proposed to me seriously to marry and settle in Khiva, since persons of such extensive travelling as myself were far from disagreeable to him. The idea of spending my whole life in Turkestan, with an Œzbeg wife for my partner, was horrible, and I should certainly have thrown up my plans if I had been obliged to accept the offer; but, as it is, I shall certainly never repent having spent a few months in an adventure which ended happily. I say never, for even the remembrance of all I experienced is indescribably sweet, and even now, when already more than three years have elapsed since my return, I find every circumstance as fresh in my memory, the whole scene as near and vivid, as if I had arrived with my caravan only last night, and were obliged to start off again on the morrow, and load my ass for the journey; as often as I think back on my fellow-travellers, the most pleasant feelings are re-awakened in remembrance of that intimate and hearty friendship which existed between us. We chatted, laughed, and bantered with each other on our long day's march, as if we could not wish for a more enjoyable existence; it was above all my merry humour which greatly pleased them, and my jokes and puns afforded to them an endless source of amusement when we were alone, for in public we all of us wore the long, stony faces suited to the gravity of our character as holy men. What would they say if they could see me now in the midst of so many unbelievers, and dressed in a garment so ridiculous in their eyes, the forked garment, as they designate European trousers?--_me_, in whom they and the rest of the world believed to see a true specimen of a western Mahometan Mollah! I must confess that although the pleasant episodes of my incognito are even now frequently the cause of cheerful moments of recollection, the sad hours of suffering and extremity of danger loom like black clouds on the horizon of the present. Their gloomy shadows remind me vividly of past terrors, and even now, whenever I start up in my sleep, haunted by oppressive dreams, it was very often His Majesty, the Khan of Bokhara, or the frightful tortures of thirst, or a fanatic group of Mollahs, who, hastening hither from Central Asia on the wings of Morpheus, honoured me with a visit. How happy do I feel on awaking, to find myself in Europe, in my dear native country, in my peaceful home! I have often been in critical, nay, extremely critical situations, but on the whole only a few episodes have left behind on me such an impression as never will be effaced, and which, from being associated with the most imminent danger to my life, will never be forgotten by me as long as I live. I.