"But I thought he was in the cavalry?" said Pere Leger, who had
followed the narrative with the deepest attention.

"Dear me! how little the East is understood in the French provinces!"
cried Georges. "Monsieur, I'll explain the Turks to you. You are a
farmer; the Padishah (that's the Sultan) makes you a marshal; if you
don't fulfil your functions to his satisfaction, so much the worse for
you, he cuts your head off; that's his way of dismissing his
functionaries. A gardener is made a prefect; and the prime minister
comes down to be a foot-boy. The Ottomans have no system of promotion
and no hierarchy. From a cavalry officer Chosrew simply became a naval
officer. Sultan Mahmoud ordered him to capture Ali by sea; and he did
get hold of him, assisted by those beggarly English--who put their paw
on most of the treasure. This Chosrew, who had not forgotten the
riding-lesson I gave him, recognized me. You understand, my goose was
cooked, oh, brown! when it suddenly came into my head to claim
protection as a Frenchman and a troubadour from Monsieur de Riviere.
The ambassador, enchanted to find something to show him off, demanded
that I should be set at liberty. The Turks have one good trait in
their nature; they are as willing to let you go as they are to cut
your head off; they are indifferent to everything. The French consul,
charming fellow, friend of Chosrew, made him give back two thousand of
the talari, and, consequently, his name is, as I may say, graven on my
heart--"

"What was his name?" asked Monsieur de Serizy; and a look of some
surprise passed over his face as Georges named, correctly, one of our
most distinguished consul-generals who happened at that time to be
stationed at Smyrna.