who had been flourishing in the air, whilst the troops
went by, a formidable-looking yataghan, and had been cheering in some
language of which I did not understand a syllable.

This man was now standing, with an admiring crowd about him, licking
the back of his wrist and shaving off the hair that grew there by way
of showing the edge and temper of his weapon. It must have been set as
finely as a razor, and, like a razor, it was broad-backed and finely
bevelled. Just as the old Hoja went by, and the placid little donkey
followed at his heels, the Circassian stepped into the horse-road, gave
the weapon a braggadocio swing, and at a single blow divided the head of
the poor little ass from the body as cleanly as any dandy swordsman of
the Guards will sever a hanging sheep. The head fell plump; but for a
second or two the body stood, spouting a vivid streak of scarlet from
the neck, and then toppled over. The old green-clad Hoja turned at the
noise made by the crowd, saw the blood-stained sword waving behind him,
understood at a glance what had happened, and shuffled on as fast as his
yellow pantoufles would carry him.

VIII

It is probable that there never was in the history of the world a
city so crammed with every sample of the tribes of rascaldom as
Constantinople at this epoch. I saw, from the carriage gateway at the
Hotel de Byzance, three coffee-coloured scoundrels pause at the place
of custom held by an itinerant moneychanger. The man sat with his little
glazed box of Turkish and foreign coins before him on the pavement, his
whole financial stock-in-trade amounting to perhaps twenty or thirty
pounds. One of the passing rascals offered for his inspection
a diminutive gold coin, and the grey-bearded, venerable-looking
money-merchant, having examined it, opened his case and took out a
handful of coins to give change for it. The glass lid was no sooner
lifted, than each one of the trio dipped in a coffee-coloured paw and
took out a handful of money. The man who had shown the small gold coin
pouched it again and walked on. The poor old money-changer rose to his
feet and made a motion as if he would follow; but one of the ruffians
half drew the sword which hung at his side, and turned upon him with
a sudden snarl. The old man sat down to his loss, and made no further
attempt to recover his stolen belongings.

Wandering up and down the city I was witness to a score of acts of
equal lawlessness, and in point of fa