horseback, they wear no spurs. When I had been amply measured, had selected the materials for the different garments of the uniform and bought a pair of goose-skin riding-boots, Captain Scherematiev took me to an arms shop to buy me a saber. Here we met with a piece of rare good fortune. The proprietor brought out a beautiful Circassian hand-worked Cossack sword that had been made expressly for a certain Cossack officer who had been killed only the day before! He would sell me the weapon at a reasonable price. I bought it with avidity, being indeed fascinated by the exquisite workmanship of the ornamentation and the excellent temper of the blade. I had speedy assurance that I had made no mistake in purchasing it, for that very night an officer offered me exactly double what I had paid for it. That night I dined alone, by preference, for I wanted a simple meal, and retired early, to rest from my long journey across the empire from St. Petersburg. About one o’clock in the morning a vigorous pounding at my bedroom door startled me into instantaneous wakefulness; lighting a candle I turned the key and opened the door to a police officer accompanied by several gendarmes. With profuse apologies in voluble French, the officer begged me to grant him the permission of examining my luggage and my papers. With all the graciousness I could master I assured my visitor that the unaccustomed privilege of a midnight search was a pleasure and a joy. I begged him to permit me to assist him in any way I could. After a superficial survey of my really innocent documents, he turned suddenly and said, “Now, monsieur, where is your revolver?” “I have none, sir,” I replied. The officer looked incredulous for a moment, then said in surprise: “Do you mean you have come to the Caucasus without a revolver?” “Yes,” I replied, “I have. Though as I am soon to adopt Circassian dress, I presume I shall be equipped with a revolver.” The officer was puzzled at this until I showed him my credentials and explained to him my reasons for coming to Vladikavkaz. Immediately his manner toward me changed completely and in a tone of real concern he told me that I must permit him to loan me one of his own revolvers until I secured one of my own, for he should feel very badly if any harm were to befall me while I was the guest of their city, especially as I was to travel with the officers of the Terskoi-Koubansky regiment. Taking a 38-caliber American revolver out of an inner pocket he laid it on the table and very courteously said: “I know it is late, monsieur, but may I trouble you to accompany me to my office that I may give you extra cartridges?” “Extra cartridges!” I exclaimed. “But this weapon is loaded. Surely I shall not be needing more than seven bullets before morning!” “Pardon, monsieur. You are now in the Caucasus. It is always best to be prepared for anything. You will return here in half an hour, and you shall have an escort.”