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 o'clock, to have tea! Alas! between Mr Gladstone's indiscreet utterances, and Sir Elliot's bad management, England let her hour slip by, and Turkey was deprived of her one chance to be regenerated.

Giaour threw back his head and emitted a howl. It was strident and harsh, the howl of the plains of Asia; for Giaour was of the blood of the once monarchs of the East, though now he was a ragged, diseased dog—scavenger, and soldier of fortune.

Lovingly my hand patted his old head. "Ah, Giaour, my boy, these are hard days for thee and thy race, and even I am recreant in my heart to thee. Forgive me! Perhaps the Powers, in not agreeing among themselves, have reached the only possible agreement at present—the Turk in Constantinople.

I took his paws and put them down. "Don't bark at me again, old boy."

He waved his stump of a tail, just a tiny bit. He had eaten my bread, he had looked into my eyes, yet he was not quite certain of me. Perhaps he, too, had lost faith in life and in mankind.

On leaving Giaour, I plunged into that tangle of streets through which one may deviously find one's way to Kara-keuy. To a stranger it is a veritable labyrinth; but though I have little sense of locality I could still find my way through