ON THE TRAIL
Though failing to overtake the chaoush and his captive before they
reached the city, Takvor lost no time in going from inn to inn to
search for them; and it was late at night, when, completely exhausted,
he left his horse in charge of the innkeeper, who was to return it to
its owner in Isnik, and went to bed. The next morning he was again
roaming about the streets, studying the rider of every passing horse,
peering into the carriages, and staring rudely at the Turkish women. He
was at the station when the daily train left for Mudanieh. He searched
the bazaars where women congregated. And again he made the round of the
inns. Thinking that possibly Armenouhi would be taken to the hot baths
without the city, he spent the afternoon wandering up and down the
road. Then in the evening he sat in the inns, seeking the acquaintance
of every soldier who he thought might be the chaoush of Ak Hissar.
The next day, the day after, and the day after that, he continued his
search with an ever decreasing hope, yet with no thought of abandoning
it. He loitered for hours in the streets before the latticed windows of
the houses, thinking that if Armenouhi was behind one of them she might
see him. A week passed, and in all the city there was not a street or
an inn or a house that he had not examined. In his despair, he began to
believe she had been taken farther away, and he would have returned to
Ak Hissar to begin his search anew, had he not felt that his one clew
would lead him back to Brusa.
Another week passed, and wearied with roaming about the streets, he
seated himself in a conspicuous place at a popular café, to see and
be seen, for he felt sure that sooner or later, if Armenouhi was in
the city, she would pass that way, and if veiled beyond recognition,
she would at least be able to recognize him. One morning, just as he
was taking his customary seat, he saw a soldier leading Dicran’s old
horse down the street. At least he thought it was Dicran’s horse. The
soldier’s face seemed familiar, too, and he tried to recall when and
where he had seen him. Could he be the chaoush who had struck him at Ak
Hissar? Waiting until the soldier had passed, he followed him through
the bazaars to the little open square that served as a horse market;
the soldier had apparently come to seek a purchaser for the horse.
The more Takvor looked at the animal, the more he was convinced of
its identity; but to make sure, he approached and began to stroke the
horse’s head; he then opened his mouth and found the broken tooth.
Without betraying the emotion which the discovery had caused him, he
stood critically examining the animal, and then, as if not wishing
to purchase, watched the soldier from the café on the opposite side
of the square. The chaoush had not long to wait for a purchaser, for
the four liras he asked was a small price. Wrapping the gold in his
handkerchief, he started away, followed by Takvor, now through the
bazaars, now up the street along the eastern ravine, to the big old
rickety house in which Armenouhi was imprisoned. When the chaoush had
disappeared within, Takvor seated himself on the edge of the ravine as
if to watch the bounding water below.