As regards private subscriptions, I was shown the list. They range from 50 centimes to £4000. On the day previous to my visit it was shown by the list that Her Majesty had received over 5000 francs in donations. Funds are coming in, it is true, but for the development of the scheme a large sum is required. It is for that reason that Her Majesty is making an earnest appeal all over the world to those interested in the welfare of the blind. Her great institution—of which this is only the nucleus—is an international one, and men and their families of all creeds and nationalities are eligible. Her Majesty has asked me to say that subscriptions, however small, can be sent either to Madame Zoe Bengesco, Dame d’Honneur to the Queen of Roumania, Bucharest, or to Mr. R. Monske, Director “Vatra Luminoasa Regina Elizaveta,” Boulevardul Carol 31, Bucharest, and would be duly acknowledged.
HIS EXCELLENCY TEWFIK PASHA, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Imperial Ottoman Empire. ]
The Orient Express again—On the Black Sea to Constantinople—A disenchantment—My dragoman—How to bribe the Customs officers—Mud and dogs—A city of spies—Feebleness of British policy at the Porte—Turkish adoration of Germany—The basis of my confidential inquiries.
From Bucharest to Constantinople is not at all an unpleasant journey.
The Orient Express runs twice a week to Constantza, the Roumanian port on the Black Sea, where there is a fine and comfortable passenger-steamer service direct to Constantinople.
At Bucharest Station I was seen off by several kind friends, with many parting injunctions to “take care of myself” in Macedonia, and it was not without regret that I left the gay little Roumanian capital, where I had received so much hospitality, from Her Majesty the Queen down to some of the humblest of her subjects.
The “Orient,” on the Constantza line, is not so well fitted, nor is the food so good, as upon the direct line from Paris to Constantinople by way of Belgrade and Sofia.
The whole train was shabby, dusty, and over-heated, and the dinner, instead of the usual _table d’hôte_, was _à la carte_. The only item on the bill of fare, however, proved to be beef-steak. The small piece cooked for me was fit only for a dog, and served on a dirty tablecloth; therefore I was compelled to make my dinner off stale bread and soapy cheese. And this on a _train de luxe_—and one of the principal European Expresses!