Page:Kéraban the Inflexible Part 1 (Jules Verne).djvu/142

144 For the kwass for the wild ducks so much: for the salt—yes, even for the salt—so much. Ahmet paid all, even to the knives, glasses, spoons, forks, and plates.

As may be expected, such dealings served only to excite Kéraban so much that he finished by purchasing en bloc the various necessaries for the supper, but not without certain objurgations which the landlord listened to with an impassibility which would have done credit to Van Mitten. When the meal was finished, Kéraban resold the utensils at a loss of fifty per cent.

"It is lucky that he does not charge us anything for our digestion," remarked Kéraban. "What a man he is! He ought to be Financial Minister in Turkey. That is a man who would know how to tax every oar that ever rowed a caïque across the Bosphorus."

But they had supped well enough, which was an important matter, as Bruno remarked; and they proceeded on their way when night had fallen—a dark, moonless night.

It is quite a curious experience, but one not without charm, to find oneself hurried along in a carriage in profound darkness, through an unknown country, in which villages are far apart and even farmhouses are scattered. The jingling of the harness bells, the measured fall of the horses' hoofs, the sound of the carriage wheels upon the sandy plain, the jolting in the ruts, the cracking of the postillion's whip, the gleam of the lamps which is soon lost in the darkness when the road is open, and which is vividly flashed back by trees, rocks, drinking sign-boards erected on the embankment of the road; all these constitute an ensemble of sights and sounds to which few travellers can remain insensible. They hear the noises; they see the objects in a dreamy manner, in a kind of half-somnolence, which lends to the surroundings a somewhat fantastic character.

Seigneur Kéraban and his companions were not insensible to this impression, which increased every instant. Through the windows of the carriage they contemplated, with half-closed eyes, the great shadows of the equipage—capricious, undefined, moving shadows, which developed themselves in front upon the vaguely lighted road.