village; and the roof, ornamented with crosses of wood, gave it the appearance of the finger-board of a "double bass." But of horses there was no sign whatever! The stable was empty, and the post-master could not supply the animals for any consideration.
Ahmet, very much annoyed at this check, returned to the inn. Kéraban, Van Mitten, Nizib, and Bruno, all ready to start, were waiting for the chaise. Already one of the party—it is needless to say which—was exhibiting signs of impatience.
"Well, Ahmet," cried this individual, "have you returned alone? I thought you had gone to procure horses for us?"
"My errand was useless, uncle," replied Ahmet. "There is not a single horse to be had."
"No horses!" exclaimed Kéraban.
"And we cannot have any before to-morrow," added Ahmet.
"To-morrow!"
"Yes. That means a loss of twenty-four hours."
"Twenty-four hours!" cried Kéraban; "but I do not mean to lose ten, not five, not even one."
"Nevertheless," said the Dutchman, "if there are no horses—"
"There shall be some," replied Kéraban, walking away, and signing to the others to accompany him. In a quarter of an hour they reached the post-house. The post-master was standing on the steps in the easy attitude of a man who knew that one is not obliged to provide what he does not possess.
"You have no more horses, I hear?" said Kéraban, in a far from conciliatory tone.
"I have only those that you brought here yesterday, and they are unfit to travel," replied the post-master.
"And why, if you please, have you no fresh horses in your stables?"
"Because they have been taken by a Turkish seigneur who has gone to Kertsch, en route to Poti and the Caucasus."
"A Turk!" exclaimed Kéraban. "One of your Euro-
