This time there is no risk of my bringing a lecture down on
myself. There is no mistake possible, as in the case of that pretended
mandarin, Yen-Lou, which I shall never forget--but then, it was in the
country of the false Smerdis and that must be my excuse.
It is agreed that as soon as we arrive at Sou-Tcheou, the telegraph
being repaired at the same time as the line, I will send off a
despatch, which will reveal to the admiration of Europe the brilliant
name of Faruskiar.
We are seated at the table. Ephrinell has done the thing as well as
circumstances permit. In view of the feast, provisions were taken in at
Tcharkalyk. It is not Russian cookery, but Chinese, and by a Chinese
chef to which we do honor. Luckily we are not condemned to eat it with
chopsticks, for forks are not prohibited at the Grand Transasiatic
table.
I am placed to the left of Mrs. Ephrinell, Major Noltitz to the right
of her husband. The other guests are seated as they please. The German
baron, who is not the man to refuse a good dinner, is one of the
guests. Sir Francis Trevellyan did not even make a sign in answer to
the invitation that was tendered him.
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