The preparations were rapidly completed. Provisions were packed, and some defensive weapons deposited in the chaise, in readiness for an emergency. Kéraban had not forgotten two narghilés, for Van Mitten and himself, an article quite indispensable to a Turk, and particularly for a tobacco-merchant.
The horses had been ordered to arrive at daybreak. From midnight to sunrise there was time for supper and some sleep. Next morning, when Seigneur Kéraban sent to call the rest of the party, they jumped up and dressed in their travelling costumes.
The chaise was ready; the horses harnessed; the postillion mounted; he was waiting for the travellers.
Seigneur Kéraban repeated his instructions to his men. All were ready to start.
Van Mitten, Bruno, and Nizib waited, silent, in the yard. "So you have really determined?" whispered Van Mitten to his friend Kéraban.
The latter merely pointed to the chaise, but made no verbal reply.
Van Mitten bowed and gravely entered the carriage taking the left-hand seat, Kéraban entered after him. Nizib and Bruno climbed up into the "cabrolet" at the back.
"Ah, my letter!" exclaimed Kéraban, just as the postillion was starting his horses.
Then, letting down the window, he handed a letter to one of his clerks, with directions to put it in the post.
This letter was addressed to his housekeeper at his villa at Scutari, and contained only these words:—
"Dinner put off until my return. Change the menu. Soup au lait caillé, shoulder of mutton aux épices. Be sure it is not over-done."
Then the chaise rolled away through the streets, crossed the Golden Horn on the bridge of Validèh Sultane, and quitted the town by Jené Kapoussi, the New-gate.
Seigneur Kéraban has gone! May Allah protect him!
