The negress slave proposed a nigger-boy to me, when suddenly the idea struck her that I should wish to appropriate her little son, and she hastened to warn me that he was a mulatto and not a thoroughbred nigger; she told me that I could order one from Diarbekir, and that he wouldn’t cost more than five hundred francs, and added that I could also procure for myself from that same place a splendid young negress who could speak several languages, but she warned me charitably that these learned negresses were often unprincipled, and dangerous to keep, on account of their propensity to seduce the master of the house! I replied laughingly that in that case I should certainly prefer to buy a nigger boy. When coffee was brought in, the negress and the slave sat down on their heels upon the floor to sip it, they daren’t do it otherwise in the presence of their mistress. After a while the negress asked permission to go and smoke in the corridor; it was only a pretext to have a peep at Sergy and his aide-de-camp, who were just then in the next room. In leaving our house the President’s wife, who had severely remonstrated with the negress for her improper curiosity revealed to her by her little son, could not resist the temptation of stealing a glance at the imprisoned gentlemen through the chink of the door. She invited me to come and see her soon, promising to show me the best dancing girls (bayadères) in Erzeroum. Now, to turn to the other side of the medal, I must say that during our stay at Erzeroum our roses weren’t entirely without thorns. The typhus-fever continued to rage, and mowed down whole ranks of our soldiers. Every day there were new victims. The Russian cemetery is quite full now, and we are obliged to bury our soldiers in a common grave. Nearly every morning I see sinister waggons carrying away the unfortunate victims of this dreadful epidemic to their last dwelling-place. I shudder when I think of it! We are warned that a fanatic society under the name of “Avengers” (Christian haters) is newly organised, and that we run great risks during our rides through the bazaars and Turkish quarters. April 8th.—To-day we revisited the camp of the light-infantry, desiring to see my godson, the newly converted _Melakani_ soldier, who by the way, is several years older than his godmother. I was horrified to hear that he had just been sent to the hospital. Presently, amongst our soldiers, the comparatively healthy ones are only those who have recovered already from the typhus-fever; it is pitiful to see their pale and meagre faces. Mr. Popoff told me that the sight of a Russian woman would help them to forget, for a moment at least, that they find themselves in a strange and hostile land, so far away from their native country.