A MODERN CEEBERUS. 133 



was not the place for us, and in answer to our enquiries, 

 ordered a soldier to point out where we might sleep. We 

 were accordingly conducted to a newly-built and as yet 

 unfinished mud hovel, scarcely approachable for mire, 

 without door, window, or any vestige of furniture, except 

 a chimney. There was a big puddle outside the door, and 

 the mud floor was so damp that we could stick our heels 

 into it for some inches. Naturally imagining there must 

 be some mistake, we retm-ned to the big house, where I 

 succeeded in speaking to the head-officer, who informed us 

 we must put up with what was ofiered, or shift for our- 

 selves. Paul simply expressed it, ' Pardon, monsieur, mais 

 il vous dit en Russe, que si vous n'etes pas content, vous 

 pouvez aller au diable.' We began to think this really was 

 Hades, and felt at a loss with what sop to appease the 

 modern Cerberus. 



The Russian ferry-boat being disabled, and the Persian 

 not crossing till morning, we were compelled to remain 

 where we were, and make the best of a bad job. We were 

 indebted to the good-nature of some soldiers (the Russian 

 private is almost invariably a kindly fellow, ready to lend 

 a hand to anyone in difficulty), for a table, some boards 

 with which we closed the door, firewood, rough rugs to 

 lie on, and some new milk. The sound of men-iment and 

 popping of corks, which greeted our ears when we walked 

 up to the terrace of the chief's house, did not lessen our 

 disgust. He was entertaining a superior member of the 

 official confraternity, and thus keepmg up the character 

 for hospitality, called for by his possession of a Persian 

 decoration, nominally acquired by the exercise of that 

 virtue, but really by purchase, if Tabreez talk was true. 



May 26th. — We did not pass a very comfortable night. 

 I left before breakfast, to try and get our passports back 

 from the officials who had them to examine. Returning 



