Chapter 3 third chapter

To use a modern parlance, Lord Kerabong was a "respectable man" both physically and mentally, with a face that looked 40 years old, and his obesity was at least 50 years old, when in reality he was 45 years old, yet He has an intelligent face and a majestic body.He has a beard that is graying and pointed at the ends, rather short than long; black eyes are flexible and sharp, and their impressions and errors of all fleeting impressions and errors are only one-tenth of a carat The balance plate is equally sensitive.A square jaw, a nose that was shaped like a parrot's beak but not too much, matched the piercing eyes and the closed mouth that was only opened to show the white and shining teeth.A vertical line was carved on the high forehead, and between the two eyebrows, a coal-black line, was really stubborn.All this gave him a peculiar visage, the visage of a queer, intensely personal, very expressive man, whom no one ever forgets if he has been attracted to him once.

As for the costume of Sir Kelabon, the "Old Turk", it has always been faithful to the costume of the former Turkish Guards soldiers: the flared turban; trousers; a sleeveless vest with large, faceted, silk-trimmed buttons; of pleats.There is nothing European in this ancient way of dressing, it is in contrast to the clothes of the orientals in the new age.It was a way of rejecting the encroachment of industrialism, a protest in the interests of fading local colors, a challenge to the edicts of the Mahmud Sultan who used his power to make the Ottomans wear modern clothes. Lord Kerabon's servant was a young man of twenty-five, named Nisib, so thin that the Dutchman Bruno was disappointed, and, of course, dressed in old Turkish clothes.He did not displease his thoroughly obstinate master, and naturally there was no difference of opinion on this point.He was a faithful but utterly impersonal servant who always gave his approval in advance and who, like an echo, repeated unconsciously the last words of the dreaded wholesaler.Lord Kerabong was fond of harsh reproaches, and the surest way to stay safe was to always agree with him.

The two men walked down a narrow, rain-washed street to Tophane Square from the outskirts of Pella.Lord Kerabong used to speak loudly, regardless of whether others heard him or not. "Oh, no!" he said. "Allah bless us, but in the days of the Guards, at night everyone can do what they want! No! I will not obey the new police regulations. I will walk through the streets without a lantern if I want to, even if I fall A mud puddle, or a bite from a wild dog!" "Wild dogs!..." Nisib echoed. "You don't need to whisper your stupid advice in my ear, or swear by Muhammad's name, I'll make your ears so long that a donkey and its driver will be jealous!"

"And the donkey driver! . . . " replied Nisib, who, as one might expect, did not give any advice. "If the Chief of Police fines me," continued the obstinate man, "I'll pay the fine! He puts me in jail and I'll go to jail! But I won't budge on this or any other point!" Nisib made a gesture of assent, and if things went that far, he was ready to go to jail with his master. "Ah! these new gentlemen of the Turks!" exclaimed Lord Kerabon, looking at a few passing Constantinoplers in stiff frock coats and red turkey caps. "Ah! You want to make laws and break old customs! Well then, I shall be the last to protest! . . . Nisib, have you told my boatman to bring his boat out at seven o'clock?" To Tophane Pier?"

"Come at seven o'clock!" "Why isn't he here?" "Why isn't he here?" Nisib replied. "Actually, it's not even seven o'clock." "Not until seven o'clock." "How did you know?" "I know because you said it, my lord." "And what if I say it's five o'clock?" "That's five o'clock," Nisib replied. "You can't be any more stupid!" "Yes, you can't be any more stupid." "This lad," Kerabong said to himself, "always never contradicts me and always annoys me in the end!"

At this moment Van Mittern and Bruno appeared in the square again, and Bruno repeated in a despondent voice: "Let's go, my lord, let's go, just take the first train! Is this Constantinople? Is this the capital of the chief of the Faithful? . . . Absolutely not!" "Be quiet, Bruno, be quiet!" said Van Mittain. Night began to fall.The sun was sinking behind the heights of old Istanbul and had already plunged Tophane Square into darkness.That's why Van Mettern didn't recognize Lord Kerabon as he walked towards Galata Pier to meet him.The two wobbled a little ridiculously even bumping into each other for half a minute as they looked for each other left and right in opposite directions.

"Hey! Sir, I'm going!" said Kerabong, who was by no means one to back down. "But . . . " said Van Mettaine, trying to move aside politely but was unable. "I still want to go!..." "But..." repeated Van Mettaine. Then he suddenly recognized whom he was dealing with: "Ah! my friend Kerabong!" he cried. "You! . . . "You! . . . here? . . . in Constantinople?" "it is me!" "When did you come?" "this morning!" "Then it wasn't me who you visited first... isn't it me?"

"On the contrary, to visit you," replied the Dutchman. "I went to your business, but you were not there. I was told I could find you in this square at seven o'clock..." "They're right, Van Mettaine!" cried Kerabon, shaking the hand of his trading partner in Rotterdam with almost brusque vigor. "Oh! Brave Van Mettaine, never thought, no! I never expected to see you in Constantinople! . . . Why didn't you write to me?" "I left Holland in great haste!" "Going out to do business?" "No... a trip... for fun! I haven't been to Constantinople, and I haven't been to Turkey, so I thought of coming here in return for your visit to me in Rotterdam."

"That's good! . . . But I don't seem to see Mrs. Van Mettaine with you?" "Indeed... I didn't bring her at all!" replied the Dutchman without hesitation. "Mrs. van Mittern doesn't go out easily! . . . So I brought only my servant, Bruno." "Oh! is this the lad?" said Lord Kerabon, nodding to Bruno, who believed he should stoop like a Turk and wrap his arms around his hat like a urn with a pointed bottom. Two handles. "Yes," went on Van Mettaine, "that's the brave boy who's already going to leave me until..."

"Go!" Kerabong yelled. "Go without my permission!" "That's right, friend Kerabon, he doesn't think this Ottoman capital is too happy or lively!" "A mausoleum!" Bruno went on. "There's no one in the shop! . . . not a car in the square! . . . There are figures in the street, and they're grabbing your pipe!" "That's the fast, Van Mettaine!" Kerabon replied. "We are in the middle of the fast!" "Oh! Is this the fasting period?" Bruno said again. "Then there's no need to explain anything! -- tell me, please, what is fasting?"

"A time of abstinence," Kerabong replied. "Drinking, smoking, and eating are prohibited from sunrise to sunset. But half an hour later, when the cannons announcing sunset sound..." "Oh! That's why they say they have to wait for the cannon!" cried Bruno. "People are compensating for daytime fasting all night long!" "So," Bruno asked Nisib, "you haven't eaten anything since this morning, because it's the fasting period?" "Because it's the fasting period," Nisib replied. "Well, this will make me thin!" cried Bruno. "This will make me lose...at least a pound a day!" "At least a catty!" Nisib echoed. "By the time the sun goes down, you're going to see it all, Van Mittern," Kerabon went on, "and you'll be amazed! Like magic, a dead city is going to be a Lively city! Ah! Gentlemen of the new Turks, all your absurd innovations have not changed these ancient customs, and the Koran is firmly against your follies! Let Muhammad strangle you!" "Well, my friend Kerabon," said Van Mettaine, "I can see that you have remained faithful to the old customs." "It's more than loyalty, Van Mettaine, it's obstinacy!—But tell me, my dear friend, that you're going to spend a few days in Constantinople, won't you?" "Not bad...and even..." "Well then, you are mine! I have control over your body! You will never leave me again!" "Well! . . . I belong to you!" "And you, Nisib, you take care of the lad," Kerabon added, pointing to Bruno, "and I want you especially to change his opinion of our wonderful capital!" With a gesture of assent, Nisib led Bruno into the already denser crowd. "But, I remembered!" Master Kelabang suddenly shouted. "You have come at the right time, my friend Van Mettain, and you will not find me in Constantinople in six weeks' time." "You, Kerabong?" "It's me! I'm going to Odessa!" "To Odessa?" "Well, if you're still here, we'll go together! Anyway, why can't you go with me?" "That's because..." said Van Mettain. "I tell you, you will go with me!" "This trip is a bit too fast, I'm going to work off my fatigue here..." "Very well! You rest here! . . . Then you go to Odessa for three weeks!" "Friends from Kerabong..." "That's what I'm going to do, Van Mettaine! I don't think you'll contradict me on arrival? You know I don't give in easily when I'm right!" "Yes . . . I know! . . . " replied Van Mettaine. "Besides," continued Kerabon, "you don't know my nephew Ahme, and you ought to know him!" "Indeed, you told me about your nephew..." "My son, too, Van Mittain. Because I have no children. Business, you know! . . . business! . . . I never have five minutes to marry!" "Just one minute is enough!" said Van Mettaine earnestly, "and often . . . one minute is too much!" "So you'll meet Ahme in Odessa!" Kerabon added. "A charming lad! . . . he hates business, for example, and is a bit of an artist, a bit of a poet, but very sweet... very charming! . . . He's not like his uncle, but he's very obedient and doesn't whine." "Friends from Kerabong..." "Yes! . . . yes! . . . I'm ready! . . . We're going to Odessa for his wedding." "His wedding?..." "No doubt! Ahme is going to marry a beauty... Miss Amasya... the daughter of my banker Selim, who is a real Turk like me! We're going to celebrate! It must be wonderful Great, you'll be there too!" "But . . . I would prefer . . . " said Van Mettaine, wishing to protest one last time. "Dealed!" Kerabong replied. "You're not going against me, are you?" "I meant to..." said Van Mettaine. "You can't do that either!" At this time, Scarbant and Captain Malta, who were walking in the depths of the square, approached them.Lord Kerabong was saying to his companions: "It's agreed! In six weeks at the most we'll be going to Odessa, both of us!" "When will the wedding take place?" asked Van Mettaine. "As soon as we arrive," Kerabong replied. Yaud said into Scarbant's ear: "Six weeks! We have time to act!" "Yes, but the sooner the better!" Scarpont replied. "Don't forget, Yaud, Lord Safar will return to Trabzon in six weeks!" The two continued to walk up and down, eyes peering and ears listening. During this time, Lord Kerabong also continued to chat with Van Mettaine, saying: "My friend Selim is always in a hurry, and my nephew Ahme can't wait, they want the wedding to take place right away. They have a motive for doing this, I should explain. Selim's daughter must be 17 years old Marry before or lose about 100,000 Turkish pounds, an inheritance left to her by a crazy old aunt on the condition of it. And in six weeks she will be 17! But I also reason with them , I said whether you think it is appropriate or not, the wedding cannot be held before the end of next month." "Has your friend Selim backed down?..." asked Van Metertain. "certainly!" "What about the young man Ahme?" "It's harder," Kerabong replied. "He loves this pretty Amasia, and I agree! He has time, he's out of business, he! Well! You should understand that, my friend Van Mettaine, you married the beautiful Mrs. Van Mettaine ..." "Yes, friend Kerabong," said the Dutchman. "That was a long time ago... I can barely remember!" "But in the end, my friend Van Mittern, it is impolite in Turkey to ask a Turk about his wives in the back room, but it is not forbidden to ask a foreigner... Mrs. Van Mittern?" "Oh! very well... very well!..." replied Van Mettaine, who seemed to be embarrassed by these politenesses of his friend. "Yes . "No, I don't know!" exclaimed Lord Kerabong, laughing. "Women! I never knew! There is always business! Macedonian tobacco for cigarette smokers, Persian tobacco for hookah smokers, and people I do business with in Salo Nika, Erzurum, Latakia, Bafra, Trabzon and not to forget my friend Van Mittain, in Rotterdam! For 30 years I have been sending these tobaccos all over Europe package!" "Smoking the tobacco too!" said Van Mettaine. "Yes, it was smoked... like a chimney in a factory! I want to ask you, is there anything better in the world?" "Of course not, Kerabong friend." "I've been a smoker for 40 years, friend Van Mittain, I'm true to my pipe, true to my hookah! That's all my back room, and there's no woman worth a East Becky pipe!" "I quite agree with you!" replied the Dutchman. "By the way," said Kerabong again, "since I have kept you, I shall not leave you any longer, and my boat is coming to fetch me across the Bosphorus. I am in Skutali I will have dinner in your villa, and I will take you..." "this……" "I tell you, I'll take you there! Now... are you going to be polite to me?" "No, I agree, my friend Kerabon!" replied Van Mettaine. "My heart and soul belong to you!" "You will see," continued Lord Kerabong, "you will see what a charming house I have built for myself, halfway up the hill in Skuthari, under the shade of cypress trees, with a view of Bospo The panorama of the Straits of Russ and Constantinople! Ah! The real Turkey is always on the shores of Asia! On this side is Europe, and on the other side is Asia, and our progressives in frock coats have not yet put their thoughts The views moved over there! They were drowned while crossing the Bosporus!—and so we'll have dinner together!" "You can arrange it however you want!" "You must also listen to my arrangement!" Kerabong replied. Then he turned around: "Where is Nisib?...Nisib!...Nisib!..." Nisib, who was walking with Bruno, heard the master's voice, and the two ran over. "So," asked Kerabong, "the boatman, isn't he coming with his boat?" "With his boat...?" Nisib replied. "I'll beat him with a stick, of course!" exclaimed Kerabong. "That's right, 100 sticks!" "Oh!" said Van Mettaine. "500 sticks!" "Oh!" said Bruno. "If anyone opposes... 1000 sticks!" "Lord Kerabong," Nisib replied, "I have seen your boatman. He has just left the spire of the palace, and he will be at the pier in Tophane in less than ten minutes." And Yaud and Skarbunt watched as Lord Kerabong held Van Mettayn's arm and stomped impatiently.