Nur-Ullah, an Afghan of distinction, whose acquaintance I had already formed at Sari, conducted me to his house on my arrival at Karatepe; and as I objected to be separated from all my friends, he included Hadji Bilal also in his invitation, and did not rest until I had accepted his hospitality. At first I could not divine the motive of his extraordinary kindness, but I observed a little later that he had heard of the footing upon which I stood at the Turkish Embassy in Teheran, and he wished me to repay his kindness by a letter of recommendation, which I promised, and very willingly gave him before we parted. {31} [Suspicions as to his Dervish Character] I had hardly taken possession of my new abode when the room filled with visitors, who squatted down in a row all round against the walls, first staring at me with their eyes wide open, then communicating to each other the results of their observations, and then uttering aloud their judgment upon the object of my travelling. 'A Dervish,' said the majority, 'he is not, his appearance is anything but that of a Dervish; for the wretchedness of his dress contrasts too plainly with his features and his complexion. As the Hadjis told us, he must be a relative of the ambassador, who represents our Sultan at Teheran,' and here all stood up. 'Allah only knows what a man who issues from so high an origin has to do amongst the Turkomans in Khiva and Bokhara.' This impudence amazed me not a little. At the first glance they wanted to tear the mask from my face; in the meantime I was acting the genuine part of an Oriental, sat seemingly buried in thought, with the air of one who heard nothing. As I took no part in the conversation, they turned to Hadji Bilal, who told them I was really an Efendi, a functionary of the Sultan, but had withdrawn myself, in pursuance of a Divine inspiration, from the deceptions of the world, and was now engaged with Ziaret (a pilgrimage to the tombs of the saints); whereupon many shook their heads, nor could this subject any more be broached. The true Musselman must never express a doubt when he is told of Divine inspiration (Ilham); and however speaker or listener may be convinced that there is imposture, they are still bound to express their admiration by a 'Mashallah! Mashallah! 'This first scene had, however, clearly unfolded to me that, although still on Persian soil, I had nevertheless at last gained the frontiers of Central Asia; for on hearing the distrustful enquiries of these few Sunnites-- enquiries never made in any part of Persia--I could {32} easily picture to myself the splendid future in store for me further on in the very nest of this people. It was not until two hours had elapsed, spent in chattering and questioning, that these visitors retired and we prepared tea, and then betook ourselves to repose. I was trying to sleep when a man in a Turkoman dress, whom I regarded as a member of the family, came near me, and began to tell me, in strict confidence,