the foot of an unpainted and narrow staircase to turn once more to
the Sultan. The Consul, I perceived, was ascending sideways, a
mode of progression which I saw was intended for a compromise with
decency and dignity. At the top of the stairs we waited, with
our faces towards the up-coming Prince. Again we were waved
magnanimously forward, for before us was the reception-hall and
throne-room. I noticed, as I marched forward to the furthest end,
that the room was high, and painted in the Arabic style, that the
carpet was thick and of Persian fabric, that the furniture consisted
of a dozen gilt chairs and a chandelier,

We were seated; Ludha Damji, the Banyan collector of customs, a
venerable-looking old man, with a shrewd intelligent face, sat on
the right of the Sultan; next to him was the great Mohammedan
merchant Tarya Topan who had come to be present at the interview,
not only because he was one of the councillors of His Highness,
but because he also took a lively interest in this American
Expedition. Opposite to Ludha sat Capt. Webb, and next to him
I was seated, opposite Tarya Topan. The Sultan sat in a gilt chair
between the Americans and the councillors. Johari the dragoman
stood humbly before the Sultan, expectant and ready to interpret
what we had to communicate to the Prince.

The Sultan, so far as dress goes, might be taken for a Mingrelian
gentleman, excepting, indeed, for the turban, whose ample folds in
alternate colours of red, yellow, brown, and white, encircled his
head. His long robe was of dark cloth, cinctured round the waist
with his rich sword-belt, from which was suspended a gold-hilted
scimitar, encased in a scabbard also enriched with gold: His legs
and feet were bare, and had a ponderous look about them, since he