faster."

"Forward, march!" cried Pierrotin, amid a mighty cracking of whips,
after the travellers were again boxed up.

It was now eleven o'clock. The weather, which had been cloudy, cleared;
the breeze swept off the mists, and the blue of the sky appeared in
spots; so that when the coucou trundled along the narrow strip of road
from Saint-Denis to Pierrefitte, the sun had fairly drunk up the last
floating vapors of the diaphanous veil which swathed the scenery of that
famous region.

"Well, now, tell us why you left your friend the pacha," said Pere
Leger, addressing Georges.

"He was a very singular scamp," replied Georges, with an air that hid a
multitude of mysteries. "He put me in command of his cavalry,--so far,
so good--"

"Ah! that's why he wears spurs," thought poor Oscar.

"At that time Ali Tebelen wanted to rid himself of Chosrew pacha,
another queer chap! You call him, here, Chaureff; but the name is
pronounced, in Turkish, Cosserew. You must have read in the newspapers
how old Ali drubbed Chosrew, and soundly, too, faith! Well, if it
hadn't been for me, Ali Tebelen himself would have bit the dust two days
earlier. I was at the right wing, and I saw Chosrew, an old sly-boots,
thinking to force our centre,--ranks closed, stiff, swift, fine movement
a la Murat. Good! I take my time; then I charge, double-quick, and cut
his line in two,--you understand? Ha! ha! after the affair was over, Ali
kissed me--"

"Do they do that in the East?" asked the count, in a joking way.

"Yes, monsieur," said the painter, "that's done all the world over."

"After that," continued Georges, "Ali gave me yataghans, and carbines,
and scimetars, and what-not. But when we got back to his capital he
made me propositions, wanted me to drown a wife, and make a slave of
myself,--Orientals are so queer! But I thought I'd had enough of it;
for, after all, you know, Ali was a rebel against the Porte. So I
concluded I had better get off while I could. But I'll do Monsieur
Tebelen the justice to say that he loaded me with presents,--diamonds,
ten thousand talari, one thousand gold coins, a beautiful Greek girl for
groom, a little Circassian for a mistress, and an Arab horse! Yes, Ali
Tebelen, pacha of Janina, is too little known; he needs an historian.
It is only in the East one meets with such iron souls, who can nurse a
vengeance twenty years and accomplish it some fine morning. He had
the most magnificent white beard that was e