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Therefore, as the Chevalier Captain John Dangerous, I have dropped my Knightly rank of late years, and furnished with all necessary passports and safe-conducts, we made our way across the Black Sea to Odessa, a mean kind of place, but rising in the way of trade; and after a most affable reception by the Russian Governor of that place, journeyed at our ease through the Tauric Chersonese, now wrested from the Tartar Khans of Simpheropol, and belonging to the Muscovites.
It is very common for the Tartars to prowl about in the night, and steal the horses and waggons, of their more settled and thrifty neighbors. After about three hours' driving, the moon shining so bright that they could see to read by it, they arrived at another village, of a less suspicious character. On the 18th they reached Simpheropol, where they were glad to rest.
His cane and hat had been sold in Kherson. To replace the hat he had bought an old uniform cap of a railway clerk. When he put this cap on for the first time, he cocked it on one side of his head, and asked: "Does it suit me? Do I look nice?" At last we reached the Crimea. We had left Simpheropol behind us, and were moving towards Jalta.
From Yalta to Sebastopol there are two routes. One strikes across the Yaïla hills to Simpheropol, whence we could proceed by rail to Sebastopol; the other runs along the coast, high up on the hills, to the Baidar Gate and through the Baidar Valley leading to Balaclava and the other well-known spots encompassing the ruins of what was once the great naval station of the Russians on the Black Sea.
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