the grave.

It was the corflew hour, and from out the lofty spires of the
neighboring mosques there came a voice that called to prayer. Each
Mussulman prostrated himself, no matter in what occupation he was
engaged, and bowing his head towards Mecca, the tomb of the Prophet,
performing his silent devotion. In famine, in pestilence, or in
plenty, five times a day the Turk finds time for this solemn
religious duty; whether right or wrong in creed, what a lesson it is
to the Christian. And so thought the lonely traveller, for he bent
his own head upon his breast in respectful awe at the exhibition he
beheld.

Pausing in silence until the scene had changed from the solemn act
of prayer to that of busy life, he passed out of the dim-lighted
bazaar once more into the open street. Night was fast creeping over
the city, and he remembered how much he required rest and
refreshment, and availing himself of the proffered services of a
Jewish interpreter, he told his wants, and not long after found
himself seated in one of the little Armenian houses of resort in the
outskirts of Stamboul.

Here again he found enough of character to study in the singular and
medley company that resorted thither, but wayworn and weary, after
partaking of some refreshment, he soon lost himself in sleep.

It was late on the subsequent morning when the traveller awoke,
greatly refreshed by his night's rest, and once more refreshing the
inner man with meats and such coffee as one gets only in Turkey, he
roamed again into the streets, where we must leave him to pursue his