dant parks, its avenues of
birches, its palaces, its cottages; the other is the old town, still
rich in magnificent remains of its splendor, and requiring many weeks
to be conscientiously studied.

This time I shall not be alone. Major Noltitz is free; he will
accompany me. We had already left the station when the Caternas
presented themselves.

"Are you going for a run round the town, Monsieur Claudius?" asked the
actor, with a comprehensive gesture to show the vast surroundings of
Samarkand.

"Such is our intention."

"Will Major Noltitz and you allow me to join you?"

"How so?"

"With Madame Caterna, for I do nothing without her."

"Our explorations will be so much the more agreeable," said the major,
with a bow to the charming actress.

"And," I added, with a view to save fatigue and gain time, "my dear
friends, allow me to offer you an arba."

"An arba!" exclaimed Caterna, with a swing of his hips. "What may that
be, an arba?"

"One of the local vehicles."

"Let us have an arba."

We entered one of the boxes on wheels which were on the rank in front
of the railway station. Under promise of a good "silao," that is to
say, something to drink, the yemtchik or coachman undertook to give
wings to his two doves, otherwise his two little horses, and we went
off at a good pace.

On the left we leave the Russian town, arranged like a fan, the
governor's house, surrounded by beautiful gardens, the public park and
its shady walks, then the house of the chief of the district which is
just on the boundary of the old town.

As we passed, the major showed us the fortress, round which our arba
turned. There are the graves of the Russian soldiers who died in the
attack in 1868, near the ancient palace of the Emir of Bokhara.

From this point, by a straight narrow road, our arba reached the
Righistan square, which, as my pamphlet says, "must not be confounded
with the square of the same name at Bokhara."

It is a fine quadrilateral, perhaps a little spoiled by the fact that
the Russians have paved it and ornamented it with lamps--which would
certainly, please Ephrinell, if he decides upon visiting Samarkand. On
three sides of the square are the well-preserved ruins of three
medresses, where the mollahs give children a good education. These
medresses--there are seventeen of these colleges at Samarkand, besides
eighty-five mosques--are called Tilla-Kari, Chir Dar and Oulong Beg.

In a general way they resemble