of singular mildness and gentleness. Once I was sitting with him till far into the night in the great hall of the Chalet Kiosk. It was the height of summer, and in the heat of the conversation his Majesty had become thirsty, and called to the attendant in the ante-room, "Su ghetirin" ("Bring water"). The attendant, who had probably fallen asleep, did not hear. The Sultan called twice, three times, clapped his hands, but all in vain, and when I jumped up and called the man, the Sultan said to him, almost beseechingly, "Three times I have asked for water, and you have not given it me; I am thirsty, very thirsty." With any other Oriental despot the servant would have forfeited his head, but Abdul Hamid's character was the most curious mixture imaginable of good and bad qualities, which he exhibited according to the mood in which he happened to be. Honestly speaking, these _tête-à-têtes_ with the Sultan were anything but unmixed pleasure. Notwithstanding his pleasing manners and outward amiability, his sinister and scrutinising look had often a very unpleasant effect upon me. One evening, seated as usual alone with the Sultan in the Chit Kiosk, sipping our tea, I fancied my tea was not quite sweet enough, and while talking I stretched out my hand towards the sugar basin, which stood near the Sultan. He gave a sudden start and drew back on the sofa. The movement suggested that he thought I had intended an attack upon his person. Another time, it was after dinner, I was taking coffee in his company. I noticed that in the ardour of his conversation he was suddenly seized with an attack of shortness of breath. He actually gasped for air. The sight of his oppression was painful, and I could not help thinking what would be my fate if in one of these attacks the Sultan were to choke. One may say it is foolish, and call me weak, but any one knowing something of life in an Oriental palace will agree with me that the situation was anything but a joke. Apart from this I got my full share of the moodiness of Oriental despotism; sometimes it was almost too much for my much-tried patience. In spite of politely worded invitations I often had to wait for days before I was received in audience. Four, six, eight days together did I wait in an antechamber, until at last I was told, "His Majesty extremely regrets, on account of pressing business, or on account of sudden indisposition, to have to delay the reception till the next day." The next day came, and again the same story, "the next day." I remember once, during a visit to Constantinople, to have packed and unpacked my effects five times, awaiting permission to return home. Complaints, entreaties, expostulations, all were of no avail, for the Muneddjim Bashi (Court Astrologer) regulates his Majesty's actions, and these ordinances are most strictly adhered to. My intercourse with the Sultan was certainly not perfectly harmonious. I did my utmost to preserve my