[Illustration: Drawn & Etched by George. Cruikshank, from a Sketch by the Author.
At half past eleven we were enlivened by the distant sounds of "Zitti, Zitti," played by a military band; and in a short time afterwards a regiment marched by the coffee-house in which we were smoking, and drew up on either side of the street, which extends from the new palace to the mosque. The band was stationed about midway, and no one was allowed to pass or remain standing. On taking our position in front of the crowd at the appointed hour, a Turkish officer came up, and politely addressed us in French, with an invitation to come within the file. He led us some distance nearer the palace, and placed us under a doorway; where we were joined by a German baron, who resides near the village, and who appeared to be on very friendly terms with all the officers, three of whom speak French. The one to whom we were indebted for our present advantageous situation remained some time conversing with us. He was a very handsome man, the son of a Georgian; and is esteemed a good officer, being second in command, although only nineteen years of age. He quitted us, to join a party of American ladies, who came within the lines, and as soon as the Sultan had passed by, he ordered ices and lemonade for them; and although he has never been out of Constantinople, he behaved just as any well-bred European officer would have done under similar circumstances. [Sidenote: ANECDOTE.] As we stood chatting together, our German friend related a curious adventure which happened to him last year:--He was out shooting behind the village, when his Highness rode up, accompanied by two or three officers; and as it is unlawful to appear in the Sultan's presence with fire-arms, the German felt himself in a very embarrassed situation. However, he stood still, taking off his hat. The Sultan, on passing, looked hard at him; and just at that moment, a swallow, happening to fly towards the party, he pointed to it, and said "Tirez!" The German, though in a great fright, understood him perfectly: he fired, and, as luck would have it, killed the bird, which fell at the head of the Sultan's horse. His Highness was quite delighted, exclaiming, "Eh, eh," (good, good,) and desired one of the attendants to enquire who the sportsman was, and where he lived; after which he rode away. Next morning, a person attached to the court came to the baron's house, with a present of china, flowers, and a purse containing 5000 piastres, which his sublime Highness had condescended to present to the successful shot. The baron requested the bearer to take his compliments and thanks to his master, and say, that he was ready to kill a swallow every day for the same reward.