That was only fair to waiting England.  No use the SULTAN trying to “nobble” this relentless man.  So it came to pass that he went to the Palace, reluctant, but “feeling we could not refuse such a command from the Sovereign of the country.”  He talked with CHAKIR PACHA and WAHAN EFFENDI; saw the SULTAN’s horse; hung about for hours; no SULTAN appeared; went back to hotel quivering under the insult.  Had framed telegram ordering the British Fleet to the Bosphorus, when VAMBERY turned up, pale and trembling; besought the SHAH to do nothing rash; explained it was all a mistake.  This followed up by invitation to dine at the Palace the following day.

All this, and what followed at the dinner; how there were “excellent wines, electric lights, and a great display of plate”; how the SULTAN, concentrating his attention on the SHAH, and forgetful of poor FREDERICK HARRISON, who had, somehow, been elbowed into obscurity, paid court to this powerful personality; how he received him on the dais, and now cunningly, though ineffectually, he endeavoured to secure on the spot the evacuation of Egypt, is told in the SHAH’S delicious narrative.

Mr. Punch, sharing in the thrilling interest this disclosure has created throughout the civilised world, has been anxious to complete the record by supplementing the SHAH’s account of the interview, with the SULTAN’s own version.  This was, at the outset, difficult.  Obstacles were thrown in the way, but they were overcome by the pertinacity and ingenuity of Our Representative, who at last found himself seated with the SULTAN on the very dais from which SHAH LEFEVRE had conferred with his Imperial Majesty whilst other of the forty guests, “including the Austrian Ambassador,” looked on, green with envy.

“It’s a curious thing,” said the SULTAN, laying down a book he had been reading when Our Representative entered, “that, when you were announced, I had just come upon a reference by your great Poet to your still greater Statesman.  You know the line in Lockandkey Hall,—­

  “‘Oh the dreary, drear LEFEVRE!  Oh the barren, barren SHAW!’”

“That,” Our Representative writes, “is not precisely the line as I remember it; but I make it a rule never to correct a SULTAN.”

Accordingly His Majesty proceeded:  “And so, my good Cousin, Mr. Punch, wants to know all about this interview, the bruit of which has shaken the Universe.  His wishes are commands to me.  In the first place, I will tell you (though this is not for publication), that it was by the merest accident I had the advantage of knowing your great countryman.  I heard there had come to Constantinople one FREDERICK HARRISON, head of a sect called the Positivists.  I am, you know, in my way, and within the limits of my kingdom, one of the most absolute Positivists of the age.  I wanted to see the English apostle, and told them to ask him to dinner.  Somehow things got mixed up, and, at the preliminary