From the _Tchernberlè Tasch_ we proceeded to visit a cistern called by the Turks _Bin-Vebir-Direg_, or the “Thousand and One,” in allusion to the number of columns that support it. It is an immense subterranean, of which the roof is in reality sustained by three hundred and thirty-six pillars of coarse marble, each formed of two or more blocks. These pillars are now buried to one-third of their height in the earth, the water-courses having been turned, and the cistern dried up, for the purpose of receiving the rubbish which was flung out when the foundations of St. Sophia were laid. It is now occupied by silk-winders, and they have become so accustomed to the sight of visiters that they scarcely suffer you to descend the first flight of steps before they all quit their wheels, and begin shouting for _backschish_. The channel worn in the stone by the passage of the water that once flowed into the cistern is distinguishable on three different sides of the subterranean, which is lit by narrow grated windows level with the roof; and the echoes, prolonged and flung back by the vaulted recesses, have a sound so hollow and supernatural that they appear like the distant mutterings of fiends. As we were about to quit _Bin-Vebir-Direg_, one of the silk-spinners informed us that there was another smaller _Boudroum_, or subterranean in the neighbourhood, to which he offered to conduct us; honestly admitting, at the same time, that the atmosphere that we should breathe there was so unwholesome that few persons ventured to indulge their curiosity by descending into it. Thither we accordingly went, and the less reluctantly as we ascertained by the way that this also had been converted into a spinning establishment, where fifty or sixty persons were constantly employed. A short walk over the rubbish of an ancient fire brought us to the narrow door of this second subterranean. And we had not descended a dozen steps, ere we were perfectly convinced of the accuracy of the information given to us by the guide. Each felt as though a wet garment had suddenly been wound about him; and the appearance of the miserable beings who were turning the cotton wheels, sufficiently demonstrated the unhealthiness of the atmosphere; they were all deadly white, and looked like a society of recuscitated corpses. We had heard a confusion of voices from the moment that we approached the neighbourhood of _Bin-Vebir-Direg_, but all was silence within the _Boudroum_ where we now found ourselves; while the blended curiosity and astonishment with which every eye was turned upon us, was a convincing proof that the unfortunates who tenanted it were little used to the sight of strangers.