ticulierly
Londres."

"I live in London," Arthur remarked.

"You live?" said Marko with interest. "Tell me, 'ow great is Londres?"

"How great?" repeated Arthur, doubtful what kind of greatness was
indicated, moral or material.

"_Oui_, 'ow great? From one side to the other side?"

"Oh, I see," replied Arthur, and took thought. "About twenty-five
kilometres, I suppose."

"Twenty-five!" Marko's eyes rounded with astonishment. "_Ecoute,
Stefan; vingt-cinq kilometres._"

"But--but," demanded Stefan, "'ow many people is there?"

"About six millions," replied Arthur, swelling with pleasure. At last
he had found his incredulous audience.

"But that is a nation! I do not know if there are so many in all
Bulgarie," cried Marko. "'Ow do they travel? No droski could go so
far--it is a day's march. But perhaps you 'ave tramway? In Sofia we
'ave tramway," he added, not without pride.

"There are trams, but most of the people travel in buses----"

"Bussesse?" interjected Stefan. "_Qu' est-ce que c'est_, bussesse?"

"Lorries--_camions_. Big automobiles containing many people. And there
are also underground railways, railways under the ground in a tunnel.
You know tunnels?"

"_Oui, galleria._ But a railway under a town--_mon Dieu!_" said Marko,
appalled. "'Ow do the people descend to it?"

"In lifts--_ascenseurs_. From the street."

Stefan nodded assent. "I 'ave seen _ascenseurs_ at Sofia," he said.

"In these tunnels," continued Arthur, visibly warming to his work,
"trains go to all parts of the town every three minutes, and the cost
is only twenty _statinki_. The streets above are paved with wood."

"With _wood! Kolossal!_" said Marko, forgetting our prejudice
against Bosch idiom in his wonder at this crowning marvel.

To what lengths of veracity Arthur would have gone I never knew,
for at that moment a trampling of feet and a hoarse command outside
announced the arrival of our escort, and Marko, still in a sort of
walking swoon of amazement, went out to give them their orders.

Stefan regarded us with twinkling eyes.

"Ah, _farceur!_" he remarked, shaking his finger waggishly at Arthur.
"I know all the time you make the joke, but poor Marko, you 'ave
deceived 'im _absolument_. Railway under the ground, streets of wood,
'e swallow it all. Oh, naughty _Baroutchik!_"

The wolves did not come near us and our escort on our way home,
but they could have had Arthur for the taking. At the moment he had
nothing le