The French officers were present at a night retreat on the Khodinka Field, after which a great supper was given in their honour at the Military Club, illuminated _a giorno_. I stood amongst the crowd of lookers-on when the mariners were proceeding to the dining-room. There arose on their passage a mighty shout: “Long live France!” and the French officers shouted: “Long live Russia!” Innumerable toasts were drunk to the prosperity of France and Russia during the repast. My husband pronounced a long discourse in French, after which Admiral Gervais addressed himself to General Malahof, the oldest Russian military commander present, and said that as he hadn’t the opportunity to shake hands with all the Russian officers sitting at table, he asked permission to kiss the old General for them all. The champagne had loosened the tongues of the guests, and one of them, having suggested the wish that France and Russia should fight together against Prussia some day, a voice cried: “We’ll enter Berlin together!” after which the subject of conversation was diplomatically changed. Next day the French mariners returned to St. Petersburg on their way to Portsmouth, where Queen Victoria was to meet them. CHAPTER LIII A TRIP TO EGYPT The microbe of globetrotting having entered us, my husband took a month’s leave and at the end of September we started on a trip to the East. I was so pleased I could kiss the whole world! We travelled by train to Sebastopol, where an omnibus, drawn by six horses, stood ready for us. There were so many passengers that I hadn’t much room for my legs and felt pins and needles in them, and a horrible disjointed feeling, as though my limbs didn’t belong to me. The road leading to Yalta was beautiful but very wild, composed of zigzags and terrifying angles; high cliffs towered on each side of the road. Half way on we drew up at a post house where we had dinner, and arrived at Yalta towards night. We found there my cousin Zoe Zaroudny, who was to travel with us to Constantinople. The next day we took the “Oleg,” a Russian boat going straight to the shores of the Bosphorus. Except ourselves there were only three passengers on board: Mme. Lebedeff, an orientalised European, wearing a scarlet fez, who was returning to Constantinople, and two inhabitants of Alexandria, father and son, whom we took for Greeks, very taciturn-looking both of them. Our crossing was not agreeable, the sea being very rough. I was roused in the night by a terrible squall, which subsided only towards morning. CHAPTER LIV CONSTANTINOPLE