truth, all the rest, the ten thousand talari, the thousand gold
pieces, and the fine weapons, were all, yes all, drunk up by the

thirsty treasury of the Turkish admiral. My position was the more
perilous because that very admiral happened to be Chosrew pacha. After

I routed him, the fellow had managed to obtain a position which is
equal to that of our Admiral of the Fleet--"

"But I thought he was in the cavalry?" said Pere Leger, who had
followed the narrative with the deepest attention.

"Dear me! how little the East is understood in the French provinces!"
cried Georges. "Monsieur, I'll explain the Turks to you. You are a

farmer; the Padishah (that's the Sultan) makes you a marshal; if you
don't fulfil your functions to his satisfaction, so much the worse for

you, he cuts your head off; that's his way of dismissing his
functionaries. A gardener is made a prefect; and the prime minister

comes down to be a foot-boy. The Ottomans have no system of promotion
and no hierarchy. From a cavalry officer Chosrew simply became a naval

officer. Sultan Mahmoud ordered him to capture Ali by sea; and he did
get hold of him, assisted by those beggarly English--who put their paw

on most of the treasure. This Chosrew, who had not forgotten the
riding-lesson I gave him, recognized me. You understand, my goose was

cooked, oh, brown! when it suddenly came into my head to claim
protection as a Frenchman and a troubadour from Monsieur de Riviere.

The ambassador, enchanted to find something to show him off, demanded
that I should be set at liberty. The Turks have one good trait in

their nature; they are as willing to let you go as they are to cut
your head off; they are indifferent to everything. The French consul,

charming fellow, friend of Chosrew, made him give back two thousand of
the talari, and, consequently, his name is, as I may say, graven on my

heart--"
"What was his name?" asked Monsieur de Serizy; and a look of some

surprise passed over his face as Georges named, correctly, one of our
most distinguished consul-generals who happened at that time to be

stationed at Smyrna.
"I assisted," added Georges, "at the execution of the Governor of

Smyrna, whom the Sultan had ordered Chosrew to put to death. It was
one of the most curious things I ever saw, though I've seen many,--

I'll tell you about it when we stop for breakfast. From Smyrna I
crossed to Spain, hearing there was a revolution there. I went

straight to Mina, who appointed me as his aide-de-camp with the rank
of colonel. I fought for the constitutional cause, which will

certainly be defeated when we enter Spain--as we undoubtedly shall,
some of these days--"

"You, a French soldier!" said the count, sternly. "You show
extraordinary confidence in the discretion of those who are listening

to you."
"But there are no spies here," said Georges.

"Are you aware, Colonel Georges," continued the count, "that the Court
of Peers is at this very time inquiring into a conspiracy which has

made the government extremelysevere in its treatment of French
soldiers who bear arms against France, and who deal in foreign

intrigues for the purpose of overthrowing our legitimate sovereigns."
On hearing this stern admonition the painter turned red to his ears

and looked at Mistigris, who seemed dumfounded.
"Well," said Pere Leger, "what next?"

"If," continued the count, "I were a magistrate, it would be my duty
to order the gendarmes at Pierrefitte to arrest the aide-de-camp of

Mina, and to summon all present in this vehicle to testify to his
words."

This speech stopped Georges' narrative all the more surely, because at
this moment the coucou reached the guard-house of a brigade of

gendarmerie,--the white flag floating, as the orthodoxsaying is, upon
the breeze.

"You have too many decorations to do such a dastardly thing," said
Oscar.

"Never mind; we'll catch up with him soon," whispered Georges in the
lad's ear.

"Colonel," cried Leger, who was a good deal disturbed by the count's
outburst, and wanted to change the conversation, "in all these

countries where you have been, what sort of farming do they do? How do
they vary the crops?"

"Well, in the first place, my good fellow, you must understand, they
are too busy cropping off each others' heads to think much of cropping

the ground."
The count couldn't help smiling; and that smile reassured the

narrator.
"They have a way of cultivating which you will think very queer. They

don't cultivate at all; that's their style of farming. The Turks and
the Greeks, they eat onions or rise. They get opium from poppies, and

it gives them a fine revenue. Then they have tobacco, which grows of
itself, famous latakiah! and dates! and all kinds of sweet things that

don't need cultivation. It is a country full of resources and
commerce. They make fine rugs at Smyrna, and not dear."

"But," persisted Leger, "if the rugs are made of wool they must come
from sheep; and to have sheep you must have fields, farms, culture--"

"Well, there may be something of that sort," replied Georges. "But
their chief crop, rice, grows in the water. As for me, I have only

been along the coasts and seen the parts that are devastated by war.
Besides, I have the deepest aversion to statistics."

"How about the taxes?" asked the farmer.
"Oh! the taxes are heavy; they take all a man has, and leave him the

rest. The pacha of Egypt was so struck with the advantages of that
system, that, when I came away he was on the point of organizing his

own administration on that footing--"
"But," said Leger, who no longer understood a single word, "how?"

"How?" said Georges. "Why, agents go round and take all the harvests,
and leave the fellahs just enough to live on. That's a system that

does away with stamped papers and bureaucracy, the curse of France,
hein?"

"By virtue of what right?" said Leger.
"Right? why it is a land of despotism. They haven't any rights. Don't

you know the fine definition Montesquieu gives of despotism. 'Like the
savage, it cuts down the tree to gather the fruits.' They don't tax,

they take everything."
"And that's what our rulers are trying to bring us to. 'Tax vobiscum,'

--no, thank you!" said Mistigris.
"But that is what we ARE coming to," said the count. "Therefore, those

who own land will do well to sell it. Monsieur Schinner must have seen
how things are tending in Italy, where the taxes are enormous."

"Corpo di Bacco! the Pope is laying it on heavily," replied Schinner.
"But the people are used to it. Besides, Italians are so good-natured

that if you let 'em murder a few travellers along the highways they're
contented."

"I see, Monsieur Schinner," said the count, "that you are not wearing
the decoration you obtained in 1819; it seems the fashion nowadays not

to wear orders."
Mistigris and the pretended Schinner blushed to their ears.

"Well, with me," said the artist, "the case is different. It isn't on
account of fashion; but I don't want to be recognized. Have the

goodness not to betray me, monsieur; I am supposed to be a little
painter of no consequence,--a mere decorator. I'm on may way to a

chateau where I mustn't rouse the slightest suspicion."
"Ah! I see," said the count, "some intrigue,--a love affair! Youth is

happy!"
Oscar, who was writhing in his skin at being a nobody and having

nothing to say, gazed at Colonel Czerni-Georges and at the famous