"What it will cost, it will cost," replied Kéraban, who again began to feel ruffled.
"You won't get out of this journey under a thousand pounds (Turkish)—perhaps fifteen hundred pounds,"[1] said Van Mitten.
"Be it so! I will spend millions, I tell you: millions if necessary. Now have you come to the end of your objections?"
"Yes," replied the Dutchman.
"And time too," said Kéraban, in a tone which suggested to Van Mitten the propriety of holding his tongue.
Nevertheless, he could not refrain from remarking to his imperious host that the journey would be attended with great expense; that he himself was expecting large remittances from Holland, which he intended to place in the bank at Constantinople; that, in fact, he had not much money with him; and—"
Here Kéraban put his hand upon his friend's mouth, and informed him that the expenses of the journey concerned him (Kéraban) and him only; that Van Mitten was his guest; and that it was his custom to pay his guests' expenses, &c., &c.
At the "&c.s" the Dutchman gave in, and no more was said on that point.
Had Kéraban not been the fortunate possessor of an old English-built carriage, he would have been driven to the necessity of hiring a Turkish "araba" drawn by oxen. But the old post-chaise which had made the journey from Rotterdam was there in the stable and quite ready for use.
This chaise was comfortably arranged for three travellers. In front a great box of provisions and luggage was secured, and behind a seat was carried up in the form of a hooded "rumble," in which two servants could travel comfortably. There was no coachman's "box," so the journey must be accomplished by post-horses.
It no doubt appeared ridiculous to modern connoisseurs, but the vehicle was well built, hung on good springs, had
- ↑ The Turkish pound is a gold coin equal to 2 paras, 25 cents; about 100 piastres.
