was fearing that our two sick men, and the miserable looks of our
whole party, might make us unwelcome at Pera.

We crossed the Golden Horn in a caique. As soon as we had landed,
some woebegone looking fellows were got together and laden with our
baggage. Then on we went, dripping, and sloshing, and looking very
like men that had been turned back by the Royal Humane Society as
being incurably drowned. Supporting our sick, we climbed up
shelving steps and threaded many windings, and at last came up into
the main street of Pera, humbly hoping that we might not be judged
guilty of plague, and so be cast back with horror from the doors of
the shuddering Christians.

Such was the condition of our party, which fifteen days before had
filed away so gaily from the gates of Belgrade. A couple of fevers
and a north-easterly storm had thoroughly spoiled our looks.

The interest of Mysseri with the house of Giuseppini was too
powerful to be denied, and at once, though not without fear and
trembling, we were admitted as guests.



CHAPTER III--CONSTANTINOPLE



Even if we don't take a part in the chant about "mosques and
minarets," we can still yield praises to Stamboul. We can chant
about the harbour; we can say, and sing, that nowhere else does the