The rounded arches recalled to Roger that, in ancient times, the Danube had been the frontier of the Roman Empire, and Ofen, as the Buda hill had then been called, an important bastion garrisoned by a Roman legion against the barbarous Scythians. Thus, as in the case of France and England, unlike the German lands, Hungary had benefited from the legacy left by that great ancient civilisation.
Rising high above the maze of narrow, cobbled streets that gave entrance to the many mansions, stood out on one side the Royal Palace, built by the Empress Maria Theresa in the middle of the past century; and on the other the two-hundred-and-fifty-foot-high steeple of the thirteenth-century Matthias Church. Further on in that direction, Roger came to the Fisher bastion and there left his carriage to look down on the splendid panorama that it offered. Below him on the far bank, like a mottled carpet, spread the innumerable roofs of Pest, to the left the Danube broadened out and divided to encircle the Margareten Insel—a lovely well-wooded island—that his German driver told him was a private estate of one of the Austrian Archdukes.
That night Roger went to bed well content. He had not only successfully completed his self-imposed mission, but had seen enough of Budapest to cause Gardane to believe that he had spent several days there.
His calculations about the progress of the mission proved near the mark, as it reached Budapest in mid-morning on the following day. The arrival of such a numerous cavalcade of French troops could not go unremarked. Having asked to be informed of it, Roger learned that it had taken up its quarters at the Jagerhorn: one of the biggest hostelries in Pest; so he at once drove there and reported to the General.
Over a gargantuan meal of traditional Hungarian dishes: corn on the cob; a succulent fish from Lake Balaton; chicken cooked in paprika; roast goose breasts and a great pate of goose livers, Roger regaled Gardane and the other officers with an account of the delights to be enjoyed in the city. They listened with envy and a certain sourness that they were to spend only one night there; for Gardane had already learned from the French agent, to whom "his advance courier had been sent, that fully-provisioned boats were waiting to transport the mission down the Danube. As an unnecessary delay might have been reported to the Emperor and brought down his wrath, the General had no option but to decree that they must all go aboard the following morning.
After the privations they had suffered in Poland and their dreary eight-day journey from Warsaw, they naturally spent a riotous night; so it was a sorry crew of bleary-eyed, mumbling men who reluctantly assembled on the wharf.
Three commodious barges had been provided: two in which the officers and their servants were to travel, and the third for their grooms and horses. Below decks, in the barges for the personnel, there were small cabins for the seniors, bunks for the others and accommodation for messing and sitting about during bad weather. The barges were fitted with masts and sails, and in their forepart horses were stabled, to be put ashore and tow them whenever the wind dropped.
With these aids, they made good progress as, instead of having to stop for the night at inns, they slept aboard while the barges continued steadily downriver. The only halts they made were for an hour or so at small towns, to buy chickens, geese, eggs and fresh vegetables. In consequence, they averaged well over eighty miles a day and, on May ist, arrived at the small town of Cernavada. From there it was no more than twenty-five miles to the considerable port of Constanza, on the Black Sea; whereas at that point the Danube curved north for a hundred miles up to Galeti, on the border of Moldavia, and only then turned east, to meander for yet another hundred miles through lakes and marshes until at last, by several mouths, the great river emptied itself into the sea.
That night they slept in a big caravanserai and, for the first time, savoured fully the sights and smells of the East; as, although they were still in Europe, Rumania was a Turkish province. Next day, they rode to Constanza and, the weather being fine, enjoyed the change after being cooped up for a week on a barge, with nothing to do but lounge about on deck, or play cards. But, soon after they reached the port, they met with the first setback on their journey. Their Turkish interpreter informed the General that, on enquiry, he had learned that no ship large enough to carry them and their horses would be available to charter for some days.
Cursing their luck that this hold-up should have occurred in a dirty, dreary little seaport, composed mainly of ramshackle, wooden buildings, instead of in gay and beautiful Budapest, they did their best to while away the time.
On their second evening there the local Pasha, who ruled the place from an ancient, half-ruined castle, entertained them; but the party proved a dull affair. He could speak only Turkish, and few of Gardane's officers knew more than some sentences in that language which those of them who had served under Napoleon on his Egyptian campaign had picked up at the time.
Roger was the exception, as he had become fairly fluent in it during the months that the beautiful Zanthe had been his mistress; but he remained as mum as the others, having decided that it might later prove a useful card up his sleeve to understand remarks made in Turkish while he was believed to be ignorant of it. In consequence, the sole conversation consisted of their interpreter passing on to Gardane what the Pasha said, and vice versa.
The food served was strange to the French: some dishes were so highly spiced that it brought tears to their eyes, and they found eating it while sitting cross-legged on low divans very uncomfortable. Most disappointing of all, no dancing girls were produced, only a small band that played weird, discordant music. As early as they decently could, after many compliments exchanged through their interpreter, they bowed themselves out, and returned to the caravanserai.
Gardane had been labouring under the illusion that the officers he was to leave in Turkey to instruct the Turks in the use of modern weapons had been picked because they were capable of at least making themselves understood in Turkish. Much annoyed by the revelation they they would prove next to useless, he decreed that henceforth they must spend several hours each day receiving instruction in the language from the interpreter. Roger, although not obliged to, sat in on these sessions, as it was seven years since he had parted from Zanthe, and he had forgotten much of the Turkish he had learned from her. To all appearances he proved a poor pupil, but listening in greatly refreshed his memory.
The only enjoyment the members of the mission derived from their stay in Constanza was the lovely sunshine; but that was more than offset by the irritation inflicted on them by lice and bedbugs. Much to their relief, on their fourth day in the port, a good-sized vessel had been chartered to take them on to Constantinople.
On the 5th May they went aboard and set sail. Roger hated travelling by sea as, in rough weather, he was always seasick, and the quarters below deck were cramped and uncomfortable. Luckily for him, the weather continued clement, although now and then the winds were unfavourable so it took nine days for the ship to cross the south-western bight of the Black Sea. But during the voyage the lessons in Turkish were continued; so by the time they entered the Bosphorus his knowledge of the language had returned to such a degree that he felt confident that he would have no difficulty at all in conversing easily in it.
All agreed on the beauty of the scene as the ship ploughed her way down the narrow waters that, between high hills, separate Europe from Asia. Then, on the afternoon of May 14th, when she entered the Golden Horn and berthed at Pera, they gazed with awe at the splendid spectacle presented by Seraglio Point on the opposite side.