can no longer trust to Popof's going to sleep.

I am absorbed in these reflections, when the locomotive stops in Gheok
Tepe station at one o'clock in the morning. None of my companions have
left their beds.

I get out on to the platform and prowl around the van. It would be too
risky to try and get inside. I should have been glad to visit the town,
but the darkness prevents me from seeing anything. According to what
Major Noltitz says it still retains the traces of Skobeleffs terrible
assault in 1880--dismantled walls, bastions in ruins. I must content
myself with having seen all that with the major's eyes.

The train starts at two o'clock in the morning, after having been
joined by a few passengers who Popof tells me are Turkomans. I will
have a look at them when daylight comes.

For ten minutes I remained on the car platform and watched the heights
of the Persian frontier on the extreme limit of the horizon. Beyond the
stretch of verdant oasis watered by a number of creeks, we crossed wide
cultivated plains through which the line made frequent diversions.

Having discovered that Popof did not intend to go to sleep again, I
went back to my corner.

At three o'clock there was another stop. The name of Askhabad was
shouted along the platform. As I could not remain still I got out,
leaving my companions sound asleep, and I ventured into the town.

Askhabad is the headquarters of the Transcaspian, and I opportunely