as too well
acquainted with the customs of the country to attempt to hasten
matters unduly. He began to discuss the weather; he compared the
climate of his interlocutor's province with that of the city; he spoke
of the approaching Bairam festivities. Then, apparently apropos of
nothing, the man said, "I have been at the sheep-market to-day," a
remark which Callard took as a broad hint for bakshish: the Turk
wanted money to buy a fat sheep for the impending sacrifice. He
produced two medjidies. The effect was magical. The two Englishmen
were guided to the small chamber where the Minister's coat hung, where
his coffee was prepared and his official attendants sat. From this
room access could be had to him without the knowledge of the hundreds
of people outside waiting for an audience: wives of exiled officers,
officials without employment, mothers come to plead for erring sons
who had been dismissed.

Introduced to the Minister's presence, Callard wasted no time. The
case was put to him; Johnson, whom he knew by sight, vouched for the
respectability and good faith of his old comrade; and the Minister,
apologizing for his subordinate's excess of zeal, scribbled an order
permitting Lieutenant Smith to pursue his business free of all
restrictions by the military authorities.

"But," he said, "I have no power to give him exemption from Custom
House control."

The Englishmen thanked him profusely, and with many salaams retired.

"We have succeeded better than I hoped," said Callard, as they passed
out; "but we are still only half way, confound it! We shall have to
hurry up if Smith is to get off in time. Arabadji," he cried to the
coachman awaiting them at the door, "the Direction-General of the
Custom House."

The driver whipped up his horse; they dashed down the Sublime Porte
Hill, and drew up at the entrance to the Custom House.

"Is the Director-General here?" Callard asked of the doorkeeper.

"He is a little unwell, but the English adviser is here."

"We will see him," returned Callard; adding to Johnson, "We are in
luck's way; the English adviser does his best to lessen the
inconveniences of the Circumlocution Office."

They went up-stairs, and were met by an attendant who showed them into
an unpretentious room, where an Englishman, wearing a fez, was seated
at a table covered with papers and surrounded by a crowd of merchants
and officials. Questions of infinite variety were being submitted to
him.

"Excell