the Etmeidan.

One of them was a stranger, dressed in a Wallachian _gunya_, long shoes,
and with a broad reticule dangling at his side. He looked forty years
old and, so far as it was possible to distinguish his figure and
features in the twilight, seemed to be a strong, well-built man, with a
tolerably plump face, on which at that moment no small traces of fear
could be detected and something of that uncomfortable hesitation which
is apt to overtake a man in a large foreign city which he visits for the
very first time.

The other was an honest Mussulman about thirty years old, with a thick,
coal-black beard and passionate, irritable features, whose true
character was very fairly reflected in his pair of flashing black eyes.
His turban was drawn deep down over his temples, obliterating his
eyebrows completely, which made him look more truculent than ever.

The stranger seemed to be going towards the Etmeidan, the other man to
be coming from it. The former let the latter pass, by squeezing himself
against the wall, and only ventured to address him when he perceived
that he had no evil intentions towards him.

"I prythee, pitiful Mussulman, be not wrath with me, but tell me where
the Etmeidan piazza is."

The person so accosted instantly stopped short, and fixing the
interrogator with a stony look, replied angrily:

"Go straight on and you'll be there immediately."