This was Captain
W----, a queen's messenger of the new school.
While we were drinking a cup of coffee, a Turkish Bin Bashi came upon
his way to Belgrade from the army of Roumelia at Kalkendel; he told us
that the Pasha of Nish had gone with all his force to Procupli to
disarm the Arnaouts. I very naturally took out the map to learn where
Procupli was; on which the Bin Bashi asked me if I was a military
engineer! "That boy will be the death of me!"--so nobody but military
engineers are permitted to look at maps.
For a month I had seen or heard nothing of Europe and Europeans
except the doctor at Csatsak, and his sage maxims about Greek masses
and Hungarian law-suits. I therefore made prize of the captain, who
was an intelligent man, with an abundance of fresh political
chit-chat, and odds and ends of scandal from Paddington to the Bank,
and from Pall-mall to Parliament-street, brimful of extracts and
essences of Athenaeums, United-Services, and other hebdomadals.
Formerly Foreign-Office messengers were the cast-off butlers and
valets of secretaries of state.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212