END OF VOLUME ONE.

Volume 2, Chapter I.

Thus far, Ivan had been successful in the accomplishment of his journey,

though there still remained many difficulties to overcome. These,

however, were lessened by the presence of mind and cleverness which

Javis at all times displayed. He seemed too to be possessed of noble

and generous sentiments, so that, notwithstanding their difference in

rank, Ivan began to feel for him a sincere friendship, independently of

the gratitude due to his assistance and attention.

A change, however, had come over him, for though active and intelligent

as ever, he was no longer the gay light hearted being, he had at first

appeared. It was in vain, that Ivan endeavoured to discover the cause:

Javis would start at times, and walk on muttering to himself, as if some

important subject occupied his thoughts: his laugh was hollow, and his

smile forced and painful. Young Conrin often turned an inquiring glance

towards him, but seemed also equally puzzled to account for the

alteration. He too had won much upon Ivan's regard, by his gentle and

unassuming behaviour, and by his evident desire to please his

self-constituted masters. It was with much regret, therefore, on the

morning of their departure, and while Javis had gone out to make some

necessary purchases for their journey, that Ivan called the boy to him,

to bid him farewell.

"We must now part, Conrin. Believe me that I do so with regret; but we

return not to the place whence we came, while you must go back to your

parents and friends. Here, take this small sum of money, it is all I

can spare, but you may require it on your journey."

While he spoke, the tears fell fast from the boy's eyes. "Alas! why are

you so ready to dismiss me from your company, Sir?" he said, putting

aside the money. "Have I done aught to offend you? I have no home--no

friends to return to--I have quitted all, and for ever! Oh, let me

accompany you then as your servant, and I will serve you faithfully and

truly."

"But we go far from hence, boy," said Ivan; "and perchance, you might

never again see your own native Russia."

"It matters not, Sir, to what part of the country, or to what part of

the world you go. Whither you go, there I will follow you. But in

pity, dismiss not an orphan child, who claims your protection."

Seeing that Ivan still seemed to hesitate, he added, "Think not that I

am a serf, escaping from bondage: no, I am free-born, and free alone

will I live; for no proud master shall ever claim me as his slave." The

boy's eyes flashed with a look of proud independence as he spoke.

"But, young Conrin," answered Ivan, "I am as you see, but a poor old

man, without the means of supporting you, or of giving you employment

fit for your youth."

"I seek not the wages of a servant," answered Conrin; "perchance too, I

may find the opportunity of serving you. Try me, at least, and if I

prove useless, you can but dismiss me at last."

"But suppose, that though we are old men, we may lead you into far and

strange countries, where you may be exposed to hardships, under which

your tender years may sink? You will then repent that you followed us,"

said Ivan.

"I fear no danger that you can lead me into," answered the boy; "and am

too well accustomed to hardships to sink under them. Besides, I am

older than I appear, and understand full well the task I undertake."

Ivan still hesitated to comply with young Conrin's extraordinary fancy,

as it seemed, when Javis entered, and the boy instantly referred his

cause to him. Javis, without hesitation, seconded his petition, when

Ivan, at length, consented to his accompanying them.

"Oh, trust me, Sirs," he said, "that you will not find me wanting in

aught that becomes a servant. You know not how my heart is lightened by

your kindness."

The pleasure which beamed in the speaker's eyes attested the truth of

his words; yet, it had before occurred to Ivan, and now did so again,

that the boy had seen through their disguise from the very first; and he

was not without a suspicion, that the boy followed them thus

pertinaciously, as a spy sent to betray them at the end of their

journey, and in the very moment when they might have congratulated

themselves on having effected their escape. Ivan knew how varied and

constant are the devices made use of in Russia to entrap the unwary, and

to shew that the power of that vast engine of despotism, the secret

police, can extend to the very confines of the Empire.

At length, however, he dismissed the thought as contradicting the stamp

which nature sets on the countenances of her children; and while looking

at the boy's face, he felt convinced he was incapable of such treachery.

That Conrin was not deceived by the disguise the fugitives had assumed,

Ivan felt convinced, as he at all times addressed him in a tone and

manner of respect that he would scarcely have paid to a poor peasant

pilgrim, although children are early taught in Russia to treat age with

respect and attention. He never, also, attempted to intrude into their

presence, keeping aloof till called to approach nearer, though, several

times, Ivan had discovered, as he thought, the boy's eyes fixed on him

with an earnest and inquiring gaze, as if he wished to read his very

thoughts. But again, he fancied that in that idea he must have been

mistaken. He saw clearly, that at all events, there was something which

the boy wished to conceal, and whatever was the cause of his attachment,

he felt gratified in the knowledge that there was one more human being

who could care for him, in the world.

We will not accompany the travellers each day in their long and tedious

journey, in company with the returning pilgrims, of whom, in a short

time, they became very weary, so much so, that Javis was of opinion they

might now venture to travel on at a faster speed, by themselves. For

this purpose, he left the party, as they encamped, in search of some of

the numerous wandering bands of his people, whom he had heard were in

the neighbourhood.

He returned the next morning before break of day, with the intelligence

that he had procured a telga, which was in waiting a short distance in

advance, to which he led Ivan and their young companion, before the

pilgrims had begun their march. These were, accordingly, soon left a

long way behind. Our travellers were fortunate in procuring a constant

change of horses and vehicles, from the friendly tribes of Zingani, or

from peasants with whom they had communication, so that they rapidly

approached the confines of the Empire, to cross which would prove

another difficulty, and demand a change of disguise.

Since leaving the band of pilgrims, Ivan and his companions had kept a

south-westerly course, as much as possible, by cross-roads and

bye-paths, both to avoid observation, and because, in the more

unfrequented parts of the country, Javis had a greater chance of

encountering some of the wandering tribes of his people. Indeed, from

information he had received, he expected to find a party of them

encamped in the neighbourhood of the Pruth. The travellers were now

approaching that river, where it divides the principality of Moldavia

from the Russian province of Bessarabia, in which they now were; their

greatest hazard being in passing the Russian posts on the frontier,

though they had yet other dangers to encounter, from the numerous spies

sent out by the Imperial government, who exercise complete influence in

the principality, to the very borders of the Turkish provinces.

As they journeyed on, they observed a figure before them, jumping and

singing as he went, now and then stopping to look around him, and then

again pursuing his extraordinary antics. When he saw the party

approaching, instead of endeavouring to escape, by increasing his speed,

he turned round to meet them. In this ragged, half-witted creature,

fantastically dressed in coloured rags and tatters, Javis recognised one

of his own race. A few words from Javis, in the Rommany language,

brought the poor being directly to their side. He gave them to

understand that an encampment of his people was not far off, adding that

he would lead them to the spot.

As they came in sight of the encampment, several fierce-looking men of

the Zingani, on seeing strangers approach, rushed out with threatening

gestures; but when Javis called to them in their own language, they gave

him a hearty, though a rude welcome, and forthwith ushered the strangers

within the circle of their camp.

Here all the people of the tribe gathered round the travellers, telling

them that they had been already informed of their approach, and were

prepared to offer them assistance. Javis, in return, explained the

wishes of his friend and himself, and the necessity of proceeding

without delay. Several men at once volunteered to assist them in

crossing the river at an unguarded spot, and to be answerable for their

safety, on condition of their assuming the dress and character of their

own people, as they were in the custom of communicating with others of

their tribe in Moldavia. They also advised them to continue the same

disguise till they had arrived in the Turkish provinces, as numerous

tribes of their people were in the country, who would assist them. Such

a dress would, moreover, exempt them from the attack of the numerous

robbers who infested the land, but who would not deem such poor-looking

wayfarers worth pillaging.

To this proposition Ivan gladly assented; and, after a plentiful supply

of provisions had been placed before them, Javis set about arranging the

necessary dresses; the Zingani treating Ivan and his youthful companion

with the greatest respect.

While engaged in this employment, the brow of Javis grew more clouded

and uneasy than before. As he passed Ivan, he would turn a quick

uncertain glance towards him, his countenance assuming an expression as

if a sudden pang had tormented him, and then he would endeavour to look

calm and composed as before.

Ivan, overcome with the fatigue of his journey, gladly accepted the

offer made by the chief of the tribe to rest in his tent, where throwing

himself on a heap of skins, he was soon wrapt in deep sleep, it yet

wanting some time before it would be safe to venture across the Pruth.

The dark shades of evening were fast coming on, and the sky gave

threatening warnings of a rough tempestuous night, when Javis,

unperceived, as he thought, by any of the people, stole from the camp.

He looked tremblingly behind him, but saw no one following, and again

pursued his way. He hastened onwards at a fast rate, then stopped and

hesitated; fear and doubt were working in his breast. At last he

mustered all his courage, and again ran quickly on. His purpose he

scarce dared utter to himself. Could he, the hitherto brave, the true,

the most loved of all his tribe, be guilty of treachery?

The long-threatened storm now broke with sudden fury; the lightning

flashed brightly, and the wind loudly howled. Javis kept up his speed.

The Russian guard-house was in sight, when a flash brighter and more

dazzling than before darted from the clouds. For a moment his eyes were

blinded. He looked up, and fancied that a tall and majestic form rose

before him. The attitude of this phantom of his brain was threatening;

the countenance fierce and angry.

He beheld before him, as he believed, the spirit of his tribe, such as

it had been described to him. He thought a voice, as if borne on the

blast of the tempest, uttered these awful words:

"Cursed is he who shall hinder the friend of our tribe on his way;

doubly cursed the betrayer of the confiding one, and thrice cursed the

perjurer."

The youth's eyes rolled wildly; his heart throbbed with violent

pulsation; his limbs trembled. He could not move. He fell prostrate to

the earth, where he lay for some time--he knew not how long. A gentle

touch on his shoulder recalled him to consciousness.

"Rise!" said a gentle voice, yet trembling as if with alarm; "rise! you

could not do the vile deed. Thank the great spirit that you have been

saved so cursed an act--an act so contrary to your nature. Think you

thus to have won a maiden's love? She would have doubly hated you.

Rise, and return to the camp, and henceforward atone by fidelity, for

your thoughts of treachery. Guard with your own life his you would have

taken, and in time the curse, which hangs over you for your oath broken

in thought, may be averted."

The speaker turned, and flew towards the camp, when Javis arose, and

threw himself on his knees on the ground.

"Great spirit," he cried, "I will obey you! Take but this heavy curse

from off me, and I will follow this stranger wheresoever he listeth to

go. Never will I quit him until I see him in safety in his native land.

Though my heart consume with hopeless love, yet will I endure all for

his sake. Let this heavy trial gain me pardon."

Javis arose, and fled back to the camp.

Ivan, unconscious of the danger and treachery he had escaped, awoke and

came forth from his tent; soon after which Javis, having thrown aside

all marks of age, appeared in his proper character, and Ivan gladly

followed his example. Returning again to the tent, he equipped himself

as a young Gipsy, Conrin having also assumed the same character.

When all was prepared, the fugitives set forward with their Gipsy guides

towards the banks of the river. The weather was still dark and stormy,

and the wind whistled among the few straggling trees which grew on the

shore. Here and there a star glimmered forth, as the dark masses of

clouds were rapidly driven across the sky. The water rushed by in

turbid eddies; and for a moment the wild scene was lit up by flashes of

lightning, to be again left in total darkness.

Descending a steep bank, the guides launched a small boat which had been

concealed among some thick underwood, and the travellers, taking their

seats, pushed off into the stream. The Gipsies, however, well knew

their course, and, as they believed that none of the Russian guards were

likely, on such a night, to venture away from their posts, seemed free

from apprehension.

It was thus, amid storm and tempest, that Ivan bade farewell for ever to

the inhospitable territories of Russia, leaving behind him few regrets,

and looking forward to his future path with enthusiastic ardour and

confidence.

The Gipsies pulled their slight bark boldly and safely across the

boiling stream. While Ivan landed on the opposite shore, a vivid flash

followed by a long continued roar of thunder, gave him the last glimpse

of Russia, as he and his two companions stopped for an instant to gaze

at it without speaking.

The guides now took a direction across the wild and uncultivated ground,

which extends for a considerable distance along the shores of the Pruth.

No rain had fallen to impede their progress, and with rapid strides

they pursued their way, Javis assisting young Conrin, who could scarcely

keep pace with the party. They hastened on thus, in hope of reaching

some shelter, before the expected rain should fall, and having travelled

some miles, the barking of dogs gave notice that they were approaching a

human habitation. A loud whistle in return was given by the guides,

when the fierce bark was changed into a cry of welcome, and the

fugitives found themselves at the entrance of another Gipsy encampment.

The chief came forward to meet them, and as soon as he had heard their

story from Javis, he received them with a courteous welcome.

When the guides were about to return, Ivan offered them some

remuneration for their trouble. "No," said they, refusing it, "we take

nothing from the friends of our people, and from one who is so highly

esteemed by our brother near Moscow. It is from our enemies and from

those who oppress us, that we exact tribute; and when they do not give

we take. May a prosperous journey be your lot."

Saying which, they hastened away on their return across the river.

Contrary to the expectations of the travellers, they had no sooner

reached the encampment than the sky grew clear, the stars shone out

brightly, the wind subsided, and the summer storm had passed away. They

were glad to find rest and shelter in the friendly tents of these wild

people, whom, however dishonest they might be towards others, Ivan had

found faithful and true to him. One of their small skin-covered tents

were prepared for Ivan's accommodation, into which he was invited to

enter, and repose himself. Young Conrin, seating himself at the

entrance, prepared to watch his master while he slept; the boy, however,

over-rated his own powers, for while he fancied that he kept guard, a

deep slumber stole on his weariness.

Ivan slept soundly for some hours, fatigued as he was with the exertions

of the last few days and the anxiety of his escape. As he was first

returning to consciousness, the curtains of his small tent being closed,

and a gentle light streaming through them, he fancied, or it might have

been a waking dream, that a strain of music fell on his ear. As he

listened, he was lulled into that half-dreaming, half-waking state, so

delightful after the heavy slumber induced by fatigue; yet the syllables

sounded distinctly, and he feared to stir, lest the sweet tones should

prove but a dreamy illusion of the ear.

The words were to the following effect, sung in a clear rich voice,

which Ivan fancied that he could recognise as that of young Conrin.

Far as the waves can bear

O'er the deep sea;

Far as the breezes blow

O'er vale and lea;

In whate'er lands you roam,

Leaving my father's home,

I'll follow thee.

O'er the blue mountain's brow,

Joyous and free;

E'en where the desert plain

Bears not a tree,

And the dark simoon's breath,

Comes bearing sudden death,

I'll follow thee.

Where, in the forest, waves

Many a tree,

To those cold regions which

Day cannot see;

Over the arid sand

Of Afric's scorching land,

I'll follow thee.

To the proud battle-field

Bounding with glee,

Bearing thy banner high,

As the foes flee;

Or mid the raging strife,

Where fierce men seek thy life,

I'll follow thee.

In the dark prison hold

Near thee I'll be;

For thy lov'd service gives

Freedom to me:

Should grief or sickness come,

And when death is thy doom,

I'll follow thee.

[See Note]

No sooner had the strain ceased, than Ivan awoke to perfect

consciousness, and springing from his couch, went forth from the tent,

where he found Javis and Conrin waiting his presence, and a blush stole

on the boy's cheeks at having been detected in his musical performance.

"Ah, my young page!" said Ivan, "were you the good spirit which first

aroused me from slumber with your sweet strains? I knew not of your

vocal skill; but now that I have discovered it, I may often call upon

you to soothe my spirit when oppressed."

"Ah! gladly would I sing to you the live long day, if I thought it would

please you, Sir," answered the boy.

"Indeed, it does please me; but how came you possessed of this art, the

most prized in the sendee of a page?" asked Ivan.

"I lived with those who gained their livelihood by it; but I could never

sing for pay; my voice is dumb if my words flow not from the heart."

"Well, boy, I hope often to hear you; and now you see that I am not the

decrepit old man I first seemed, still do you wish to follow my

fortunes, knowing that they may be perilous ones? But I would not

command you to leave me."

"Say you so, Sir? and I would not quit you for worlds," answered Conrin.

"Then, my good page, I hope we may not part for a long time; and I

trust, moreover, that in my country you may find a home you will love

more than the one you have left. But we must away on our road towards

that loved land."

The hospitable chief of the tribe, as they are here called, Tzygani,

undertook to pass the travellers on from camp to camp of the numerous

gangs of his people, (who wander through Moldavia), till they could

reach the Danube, where it passes the Turkish provinces.

Ivan and his two companions, much refreshed by their night's rest, after

bidding farewell to the hospitable chief, set forward on the horses he

had provided for them. They were accompanied by a guide, to shew them

the way across the country, until they should again fall in with another

camp of their people. In this way, they quickly travelled through the

principality.

Moldavia, which formed part of the ancient kingdom of Dacia, for a long

time groaned under the iron rule of the Turks, until freed by the

victorious arms of Russia, when the people began to rejoice at the

prospect of the amelioration of the country, placed under the benign

protection of a Christian power. Alas! they found to their cost, that

they had only changed masters, and that their new protectors were

determined to rivet still more firmly the chains which enslaved them,

being yet more determinately opposed to liberal institutions, and all

general improvement. The wretched peasants had no sooner been relieved

from their Turkish masters, by whom they had been pillaged and

exhausted, than they were reduced to a state of absolute starvation by

the Russian army of occupation, which took up its position in the

country. Already scarcely able to find food for themselves, their corn

and meat were forcibly torn from their grasp to feed their rapacious

guests, and to supply provisions for the army engaged in the war against

the Turks. Even a supply of corn, sent them by the benevolent

inhabitants of the neighbouring Austrian provinces, was seized by the

Russian soldiers, after crossing the frontier, thus depriving the

famishing peasants of their last resource. On no side could they turn

for assistance or sympathy, while, sinking under their misfortune,

thousands died from famine and disease, the rest of Europe being kept in

utter ignorance of the foul and unwarranted tyranny exercised over them.

So brutalised, indeed, have the lower orders become by a long state of

vassalage, and utter insecurity of property, as to be almost insensible

to the hardships of their condition, while the upper classes are most

lamentably demoralised.

In consequence of this state of things, the travellers found great parts

of the country an almost entire wilderness, only slight patches of

cultivation appearing here and there, though the soil seemed rich and

productive. They passed but few miserable villages, and those far

distant from each other.

The peasants have a wild and savage appearance, increased by their black

hair streaming loosely over their countenances, and by their sheepskin

habits and caps, with sandals of goat skin fastened round the leg by a

rope. The women are still more wretched and squalid. At each quiet and

solitary farm house, at which our fugitives stopped, the poor people

received them kindly, though they appeared to be in hourly alarm, from

the fierce bands of robbers who were scouring the country in every

direction, levying their lawless contributions alike on the peaceable

villagers, and the unprotected travellers, and not unfrequently adding

murder to robbery.

The paths traversed by Ivan and his companions scarcely deserved the

name of roads, though the light low cart Javis had procured, carried

them safely and quickly over them. Several rivers and streams

interrupted their course. Some of the latter were nearly dry, and the

first they passed in boats, with small parties of gipsies, whom they

fell in with, and who accompanied them on purpose. As they approached

the broad Danube, they proceeded on foot across the country, by paths

scarcely trodden, except by their wandering guides. It was with

considerable difficulty they gained the river, passing over a long

distance of low marshy shore, which here forms its banks, and rousing

from their rest the pelican and other wild fowl of this desert region.

On a calm and lovely night, they crossed the rapid, but smooth stream,

in a boat, pulled by their friends, the Tzygani; and, in about an hour,

landed in the Turkish province of Bulgaria. The spot at which they

struck the Danube was considerably above the Walachian town of Galatz,

near the Turkish Hirsova, situated on the summit of precipitous rocks

close to the river. They did not venture to enter that now ruinous

place, as most of the Turkish towns taken by the Russians in the late

war, were still held by their troops.

The direct road of the travellers now lay along the southern bank of the

Danube for a considerable distance, to Silistria, a wretched town with a

fort, also destroyed by the Russians, who yet retained a garrison there.

They therefore avoided it, keeping across the country to the left of

the road.

The hamlets, through which they passed, consisted of about fifty houses,

each formed of wicker work plastered over, and kept neat and clean

within. The men were clad in brown sheepskin caps, jackets of undyed

brown wool, white cloth trowsers, and sandals of raw leather; while the

women, who appeared without hesitation before the strangers, were

handsome and neatly dressed, all wearing trinkets, the girls having

their heads uncovered, and their hair braided and ornamented with

different coins.

Most of the villages were inhabited by Turks, except the first at which

they arrived. Here our fugitives were fortunate in finding that the

greater number of the simple and industrious people were Christians, by

whom they were kindly and hospitably received. The villagers seemed to

vie with each other in shewing them attention, insisting on their

resting, and taking such refreshment as they could produce, so that in a

short time they were again ready to proceed on their road.

They here again laid aside the Gipsy dress and appearance, and assumed a

costume more approaching the European, and which would procure them more

respect than they could expect to receive in the other. They also

obtained horses to finish the journey across the Bulgarian Mountains,

which form part of the great Haemus chain, to Varna, the port of their

destination, expecting there to find some vessel by which they could

reach any other Turkish port in communication with Circassia.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note. The above lines have been set to music by Miss L. Kingston, and

published by D'Almaine and Co.

Volume 2, Chapter II.

Notwithstanding the heat of the noontide sun, which shone forth with the

unobscured splendour of a southern clime, our hero and his two

followers, who had been travelling since the early morn, still kept the

road, eager to reach the coast they were now approaching.

Mountain after mountain, hill after hill, had been left behind, which at

a distance had appeared so steep and lofty as to be almost

insurmountable. Thus, in the ordinary affairs of life, difficulties

which threaten to impede our progress when viewed in long perspective,

and from which the faint-hearted turn back in despair, when fairly

encountered and grappled with, may often be overcome with half the

labour and pain we contemplated.

They had just gained the brow of a lofty hill, up which they had been

toiling, when a long and glittering line of silvery brightness met their

view.

"The sea! the sea!" exclaimed Ivan, as for a moment the party reined in

their steeds, to gaze with interest and curiosity on that longed for

sign of the near accomplishment of their weary journey. "Onward, my

friends, onward!" he added, setting spurs to his horse, impatient to

reach that liquid road which now alone separated him from his country.

As they rode quickly on, by degrees the line grew broader and broader,

till a wide expanse of sea lay before them, heaving in gentle

undulations, and shining like a sheet of polished silver.

Here and there, the tiny white sail of some light caique seemed like a

sea bird floating calmly on the waters, and farther off, the loftier

sails of larger vessels, seen through the haze caused by the heat,

resembled thin and shifting pillars of white smoke. All nature seemed

to slumber. Not a human being, nor a dumb animal was to be seen abroad.

The sails suspended in festoons from the yards of the few vessels

floating in the bay, hung down without moving, nor were the crews

stirring. Not a boat was visible. All were taking their rest, till the

great heat of the day should have passed.

As the travellers entered the small sea port of Varna, the streets also

were dull, and deserted; and it was only when they reached the

neighbourhood of the few cafenehs, of which the place boasted, that some

signs of life were perceived; and, even here, few of the inmates had as

yet roused themselves from their mid-day sleep. At the barber's shop

also, the loquacious and vivacious operator might be seen just awaking

from his slumbers, to welcome his customers, as, one by one, they lazily

strolled to his door, either to submit their heads to his care, or to

converse with his friends, or with any strangers who could supply the

place of newspapers.

Our travellers first proceeded to the caravanserai, to which they had

been directed, to leave their horses to be returned to their owners; and

they then repaired to the principal cafeneh, to refresh themselves with

food and rest.

As they entered, a few of the occupants roused themselves to gaze at the

strangers; and in a short time, the coffee-house was again filled with

guests. Some, forming knots, filled their chibouques, and as they

smoked the fragrant weed, discussed various subjects in a grave and

solemn tone. Here a group of listeners formed a circle round one of

those story tellers, to be found in every Turkish coffee-house, intently

hearing the wonderful tales he narrated, and expressing their

satisfaction by low exclamations of applause.

Ivan and his companions had not been long seated, when a smoking dish of

pilau and other Turkish dainties were placed before them.

While he and his friends were discussing their meal, a party of men had

clustered near them; the sound of whose language, as he listened to

their voices, made his heart beat with feelings of the most intense

interest and delight. He drew in his breath with eagerness as he

listened attentively. He could not be mistaken, they spoke in that

language heard by him before, only from the mouth of one ardently

loved--his mother. Those sounds struck a new chord in his feelings. It

was his own native tongue. What a tumult of sensations did the words,

simple as they were, raise in his bosom! He gasped, in his anxiety not

to lose a syllable of the words which fell from the mouths of his

newly-found countrymen. He could not remain quiet. He rose, and

approached them. He could not withdraw his eyes from them, as he

scanned the countenances of each to read their different characters. He

longed to address them, but hung back hesitatingly, in fear of not

finding suitable expressions. He understood all they said, and their

conversation had become deeply interesting to him; but as he attempted

to speak, his lips refused to give utterance to what he sought to say.

He returned to his seat in despair, but soon again arose, determining to

address them. Words now flowed rapidly from his mouth. The Circassians

started, as they first heard one dressed in the Frank costume, speaking

their own language; but a smile of satisfaction lighted up their

countenances as he continued. He told them that he was a Circassian,

that he sought to reach his native land, in which all his hopes were

centered--that he had long lived away from it, and knew not even its

customs--that he had undergone many dangers and difficulties in

approaching to that point--but that he had not further means to

accomplish his purpose.

As he finished speaking, a rough weather-beaten man in the Turkish dress

started up, exclaiming: "The way to get there is clear before you; for

my vessel now rides in the bay, waiting only for a fair wind, or any

wind at all, to sail direct for the coast. This good company is going

with me, and by Allah! we will reach it safely, or never trust the Reis

Mustapha, in spite of all the Russian fleets that may beset our course.

May the Evil One possess them, and their mother's sons!"

Having thus delivered himself of his unusually long oration, he sat

down; and a tall and venerable man, who appeared to be the chief of the

party, rose to confirm his words.

"Whoever you may be, young stranger, who, though with a Frankish dress

and appearance speak our language, and are as you say of our country,

you shall be welcome to join our party; and if, with good intentions,

you visit the land of the Atteghei, I will protect you from all dangers

which may beset you, to the utmost of my power."

The speaker was dressed in the Circassian costume. He bore on his head

a white turban. His long beard descended to his breast. He wore a

flowing caftan of silk; and at his girdle, a cama or dagger, with a

broad two-edged blade, and an ivory handle. His features were handsome,

and his eyes sparkled with the fire and animation of youth as he spoke.

Ivan's heart bounded with joy and gratitude at his words; for one of the

last, the greatest difficulties in the accomplishment of his

undertaking, was overcome.

"Willingly do I embrace your valued offer," he said; "and I trust to be

able to prove to you and all my countrymen that I go to Circassia for

the purpose alone of aiding her cause. As yet, I am a man without a

name, and without friends: but the time may come when I shall find both,

and be able to show my gratitude for your generosity. Till then you

must be content to remain in ignorance of my previous history. My first

endeavour shall be, to gain a noble name by gallant deeds, and thus

prove myself worthy of the race from whence I sprung. I will then seek

a brave and honoured sire, who may not blush to own his son. Till I

have accomplished my purpose, I have sworn to conceal my name from all.

Know me, then, alone as `The Stranger.' I bring with me but my own

willing arm, and two faithful followers."

"It is enough," replied the old man who had before spoken. "Nor has

Hadji Guz Beg lived so few years in the world that he cannot read the

countenances of men. To your's, young stranger, I can fully trust. In

it I can read truth and courage. Say no more. I seek not to pry into

your motives or private history. I have confidence in the one, and sure

I am there is no disgrace in the other. You shall join us."

"I confidently put myself into your power," said Ivan. "You will thus

be able to test my truth. For that of my followers I will be

answerable."

Javis and young Conrin were now invited to join the party, with whom the

former, in his usual manner, soon made himself acquainted.

It was arranged that, at dawn of the next morning, the Turkish Reis

Mustapha should return to the cafeneh, to conduct Ivan and his followers

aboard his vessel, when, if the wind proved favourable, they were to set

sail immediately. Ivan was surprised at his good fortune in finding a

vessel at Varna, bound for the Circassian coast, as he fully expected to

be obliged to touch at several Turkish ports before he was successful in

his search; but it proved that she had been driven, on her passage from

the Bosphorus, by a violent gale of wind, thus far to the north, when

she had been obliged to anchor to save herself from going ashore. A

calm had succeeded the gale, which, most fortunately for Ivan, had

detained her there for several days.

The principal person among the passengers was the Hadji Guz Beg, a

celebrated Circassian leader, now returning from a pilgrimage which he

had undertaken to Mecca, during a short interval of peace, which the

Russians had, for their own sakes, afforded his country. He spoke much

of the lands he had visited, and the adventures he had encountered,

particularly of a visit he had paid to Mahomet Ali in Egypt, when his

brother hero received him with affection and respect, urging him to

remain some time with him. But news of the war in the Caucasus having

been renewed had caused him to hurry back to partake in its dangers and

excitement. None could look at the old warrior Hadji, without believing

that he was possessed of the most indomitable spirit and heroic bravery.

As we pursue our history, we shall have much more to say of him.

The party soon separated, to make the final preparations for their

voyage. The indefatigable Javis set out to purchase dresses and other

necessaries, nearly exhausting the remainder of their money. Ivan had

determined to make his appearance on the Circassian shores in his native

costume, throwing aside for ever all marks and remembrances of Russian

thraldom. Conrin wished, also, to adopt the same style of dress, to

which his master willingly needed: while Javis, who claimed no nation as

his own, preferred the Turkish habit, as being suited to the language he

spoke.

Javis returned late in the evening, bringing with him a sword of highly

tempered Damascus steel, which he had obtained with great difficulty; a

rifle and dagger for Ivan, and a brace of pistols for himself. He had

procured, moreover, a handsome Circassian coat of dark cloth trimmed

with silver, and a red cap, trimmed with fur, with other parts of the

dress for his master, and a light-coloured tunic and vest, with a cloak

for the page, for whom he also brought a sharp silver-mounted dagger and

pistols.

It would be difficult to describe the feelings of satisfaction with

which Ivan assumed the garb of his ancestors. In imagination, he

fancied himself at the head of a faithful band of his tribe--if in

reality he could claim the rank of leader--ready to rush down on the

invaders of his paternal shores; he grasped his sword, gazing on it with

a stern and determined eye, and internally vowing never to sheathe it,

until they had been driven from the land, or to perish with it bravely

in his hand. As he drew himself up to his full height, with eye

dilated, thoughts abstracted from all present scenes, he looked in truth

already the gallant and brave warrior he fancied himself.

So regardless was he of all around him, that he did not observe the

glance with which his youthful follower, who had silently and unobserved

entered the apartment, regarded him. The boy stood rivetted to the

ground as he first caught sight of his master in his new costume; and

had Ivan wished to know what effect he was likely to produce on others,

he might have looked into the countenance of his page, when his vanity

would have been fully satisfied.

Neither spoke for some time; but when Ivan at last perceived the youth,

"Ah! Conrin," he cried, "are you come to welcome your master in the

free garb of the mountains? Rejoice with me, that I no longer feel

myself a slave and an alien in a land of tyranny; henceforward you will

follow the fortunes of one determined to rise above the frowns of fate.

Are you still resolved, boy, to share all the dangers and hardships I

must encounter, to receive alone the slender reward I may be able to

offer? Will you now quit me?"

"Oh, speak not thus, Sir," replied the boy; "where you go I will

willingly follow, through all dangers, all hardships, even to death:

that I may be only near you, to warn you of any threatened harm I may

discover, is the utmost reward I seek for my poor services. To nurse

you when wounded, to cheer your couch when you might be left to the

heartless care of strangers, will be my anxious task. To accompany you

on your excursions--to follow you to the field--to fight by your side--

to shield your life, will be my greatest happiness."

Carried away by his feelings, the boy clasped his hands with energy as

he spoke; but in a moment he stopped in confusion, as if he had

expressed more than he had intended.

Ivan looked at him with astonishment. "You are indeed a noble, gallant

youth," said he, "though you claim not high birth or descent; I am happy

in finding so faithful and true a friend. I could not, if I wished it

now, send you back to your country, and much it would grieve my heart to

part from you; but I will protect you while I live and have an arm to

wield my sword. Wherever I go, you shall accompany me; but I fear that

you will be exposed to many perils in my sendee; for, believe me, the

enemies of my country will not be driven from their attempt, without a

fierce and desperate struggle; and it may yet be many years before they

are free."

"Oh, Sir, you know not the happiness your words cause in my breast,"

answered Conrin. "With you I shall laugh at all dangers and

difficulties, and fear nothing that can happen to me."

"I know your regard, my good boy. Now, leave me to myself. I would be

alone, to meditate on my undertaking. A few days more will carry us to

those shores whence I wish never to return."

As the page withdrew, he cast a glance of affection at his master, and

Ivan sunk again into the train of thought from which he had been

aroused.

At length he rose, and wandered forth by himself, not feeling inclined

for the company even of his faithful attendants. He climbed to the

summit of the half ruined citadel of the town, and looked forth

anxiously on the broad expanse of ocean which lay calm and unruffled at

his feet, longing eagerly for a breeze, to fill the sails of the bark

which was to carry him and his fortunes to death or victory. But not a

breath fanned his cheeks as he waited, long watching, till he saw the

sun descend over the land of his destination, in a broad flame of glory,

tinging the whole sea with a yellow glow.

On every side, the fortifications were in a state of ruin and

dilapidation, owing to the severe and protracted siege the town had

sustained from the Russians, till it was traitorously delivered into

their hands by that execrable monster, Usef Pacha. [Vide Spenser.]

Rousing himself, he returned to the cafeneh, where he found young Conrin

anxiously awaiting his arrival. The boy looked sad and melancholy, till

he saw his master's countenance wearing a more serene expression than

before, when his features were lit up with pleasure, and he followed him

into the house, where they found the Hadji, the captain of the zebeque,

and the rest of his passengers.

The Hadji, on first glancing towards Ivan, as he entered in his national

costume, scarcely knew him, but no sooner did he recognise him, than he

rushed forward with outstretched arms to embrace him.

"Ah, my son," he cried, "I now recognise in you a true scion of the

noble race of the _Atteghei_; [the name the Circassians call themselves]

and welcome shall you be to join, with your youthful arm, in our

struggle for independence. Bismillah! with a few hundred such youths as

you at my back, I would take every cursed Russian fort on our coast, may

the Evil One possess them! You, perchance, have no father; I will be to

you as one, and you shall be to me as a son. I will protect you from

all who shall dare to oppose you, so fear not."

"I would wish for no more valiant protector, noble Hadji," replied Ivan,

"and gladly, in all things, will I follow your advice, and profit by

your experience. Under your guidance, I trust soon to gain that renown

after which I thirst, and to shew myself no unworthy child of the

Atteghei."

"You speak well, young man," replied the Hadji; "I have grown too old

not to boast a little; and you need have no fear of not gaining credit

under my standard. Bismillah! the fana Moscov well know the sight of

it. I will shew you what fighting is in a few days, with the blessing

of Allah!"

With such like conversation, the time passed, till all the party sought

repose.

At the first streak of dawn, Ivan started up from the carpet on which he

had passed the night, at one end of the divan, summoning Javis and his

page, who came the moment he heard his master's voice. The Hadji, and

the rest of the party quickly followed his example, and were met at the

door of the cafeneh by the Reis, who came in haste to inform them that a

breeze, light, though favourable for their voyage, had sprung up.

They rowed off into the bay, where the light zebeque lay at anchor, with

her sails loosened, and were quickly on board. The anchor was tripped,

her head gradually paid off from the wind, and calmly and slowly she

glided from the shores of Turkey.

Far in the distance appeared the blue and indistinct ridges of the

Balcan mountains; before them, the quiet sea; while around passed many

of the primitive looking fishing boats, and small coasting vessels,

skimming over the waters, their crews habited in picturesque dresses,

and gaudy-coloured turbans. No sooner were they under weigh, than the

devout Mahometans of the party knelt for the performance of morning

prayer, while Ivan, following their example, offered up his thanks to

Heaven for his escape from so many and imminent dangers.

Volume 2, Chapter III.

For several days did the light zebeque, which bore our hero and his

fortunes towards his native land, glide calmly and securely over the

unruffled surface of the blue and shining waters, without encountering

any of those violent, but short lived, tempests for which the Euxine is

so noted; or, what was still more to be dreaded by the voyagers, without

meeting any of the Russian cruisers. All on board were congratulating

themselves on the calmness of the sea, and the favourable weather, which

seemed to promise a prosperous termination to their voyage, when they

were doomed to experience how uncertain and changeable are all things

here below.

The wind, which had hitherto blown gently in their favour, now

treacherously shifted round to the north-east, while dark lowering

clouds appeared in the horizon ahead. The breeze came at first in

fitful and strong gusts, so suddenly commencing, that it scarcely

allowed time to the slow-moving Turkish seamen to take in their canvass,

ere the light vessel heeled over to the strength of the blast, but as

they clewed up the sails she again righted.

"Allah be praised!" exclaimed the sturdy captain of the zebeque, running

here and there, encouraging and assisting the people in their exertions

to shorten sail; "we shall yet weather such a summer storm as this.

Bosh! this is nothing. Now, my brothers, my dear brothers, work with a

good will, and by the blessings of the Prophet, no harm will happen to

us. Keep her well before it, Osman," turning to the man at the helm.

"We must run before it for a time till the wind moderates, since she

will not look up to it. Square the yards, my men," as the people

descended on deck, having close-reefed the lower sail, and taken in the

upper ones. "Well done, good brothers, Allah is merciful, and we may

laugh at the storm."

With such like exclamations of encouragement, the Reis cheered the men's

spirits, instead of swearing at and abusing them, as the commanders of

vessels of more civilised nations are apt to do.

As the vessel's head turned from the gale, she ran quickly before it,

bounding over the low, but froth-covered, hissing and sparkling waves

which the squall had raised. The breeze quickly abated, and her head

being again brought to the wind in nearly her right course, she dashed

bravely through the water, the spray breaking over her bows in showers,

sparkling with the hues of the rainbow, and sorely disconcerting her

passengers.

To our hero, who had never been before on the surface of the ocean, the

scene was novel and highly exciting. The waters, so lately smiling in

calm and unruffled beauty, were now crested with a white glistening

foam; the waves madly danced and sported in confused ridges; the dark

clouds chased each other across the sky, and quickly disappeared to

leave it blue and clear. From the looks of his seafaring companions, he

could have seen that no danger was to be apprehended, had he not been

too much occupied with the contemplation of the sudden, and to him,

extraordinary change which the face of nature had undergone, to think

even for a moment of peril or mishap.

The youthful page, standing near his master, kept his eye fixed on his

countenance, giving an eager and an inquiring glance; but, reading in

his tranquil looks that there was nothing to fear, he seemed perfectly

satisfied. Javis, who, in his wandering life, had passed over many

leagues of sea, saw there was no danger to dread in this summer squall,

and with his usual activity was giving his assistance to the sailors.

He had already become a great favourite with all the crew and

passengers; and even the dignified but kind-hearted Hadji regarded him

with an eye of favour, as one faithful to the friend to whom he

considered himself as protector. Young Conrin alone kept aloof from the

crew in solitude and silence, except when answering a few low words to

Javis's attentive inquiries, or when Ivan addressed him. His

countenance would then light up with pleasure and animation, as he

poured out his soul in expressions of admiration at the vast changing

scene of waters, seeming alike, and yet so different and variable.

As the sun sank down beneath the waves, a vast, glowing ball of fire,

seeming to throw a liquid flame over the sky to the very zenith,

reflecting its burning hue on the dancing waters; the wind fell as

suddenly as it had arisen; but in its stead a dense fog came on, so that

by the time the shades of night had cast their gloom over the sea, it

was scarcely possible to distinguish any object beyond the head of the

vessel. Nevertheless, with a firm confidence in destiny, the Reis kept

the zebeque on her course, trusting that she would not be run down by

any larger craft in the dark, or meet with any other accident, and

throwing himself on his mat spread on the deck, waited for daylight, in

the hope of seeing by that time the Circassian coast, to which he

calculated they were drawing near.

The night passed tranquilly; but it was yet scarcely daylight when the

breeze, again freshening, partly dissipated the fog, blowing slight

openings in some places, and in others wreathing it into thick columns,

when the man at the mast-head sung out that he saw a large and towering

sail on the weather bow, close aboard them. As he gave the alarm on

deck, the Reis sprung from his mat and rushed to the helm. The lookout

man indicated the direction of the stranger, who evidently did not yet

see them, concealed as their low sails were by the fog. Nothing

daunted, the sturdy captain put the helm up, ordering the yards to be

squared, and keeping the vessel's head before the wind, hoping thereby

to escape the vigilance of their much-dreaded foe, for there was not the

slightest doubt the stranger must be a Russian, it being improbable that

one of any other nation should be found in those waters.

For some anxious minutes it appeared that this manoeuvre had succeeded;

and calling on Allah and his holy prophet to succour them, he prayed

that the fog, again becoming dense, would favour their escape; but it

was a narrow chance. Should the breeze freshen a little more, it might

in a moment blow aside the thin veil which shrouded them, and expose

them to their remorseless enemies.

Ivan, the Hadji, and the rest of the passengers, had assembled on deck,

and on being informed of the threatened danger, the former, to whom it

was the most critical, nerved himself to meet it with fortitude. To

fall into the hands of the Russians, by whom he would probably be soon

recognised, would be utter destruction, perpetual slavery or death.

The Hadji, forgetful partly of his newly assumed sacred character, drew

his sword with one hand, while he commenced telling his beads with the

other; and, addressing himself to prayers for their safety, at intervals

he hurled abusive epithets at the foe, and uttered words of

encouragement to his companions. The rest of the landsmen followed the

more pious part of his example, except Ivan's two followers, who stood

by their master's side, looking as if determined to sell their lives

dearly, ere they would permit him to be captured by their hated enemies.

The crew, much to their credit, kept at their posts, ready to obey any

of the orders the Captain might find it necessary to give, in altering

their course, or in taking in or making sail.

As much canvass had already been spread on the lower yards of the vessel

as she could bear, the Reis being fearful of setting any more aloft, in

case of thus exposing her to the sight of the enemy. The man from the

mast-head gave the welcome intelligence, that the Russian ship was no

where to be seen; but scarcely a minute had elapsed, when another

violent and sudden squall struck the zebeque, almost splitting her

sails, but, fortunately being before the wind, she scudded on still

quicker from the danger.

The hopes of all on board, at this chance of escape, were raised high,

only to be as quickly and grievously disappointed; for at the same

instant, the blast which had struck them cleared away the fog, and

discovered a large Russian corvette, at some distance fortunately, and

heeling over on her beam ends to the violence of the squall, it having

caught her it appeared unawares, her people being busily employed in

taking in her more lofty sails.

It was a moment of deep suspense to all on board the Turkish vessel; but

a cry of despair arose from her crew, as they saw with their glasses the

crew of the corvette descending from her rigging, the sails yet

unfurled, the yards being squared as her head came quickly round in the

direction they were sailing. Onward she proudly came, ploughing with

her bow the now fast rising sea, all her sails swelling, as if they

would burst from the ropes which confined them. It seemed that no power

could stop her course, as throwing the foaming waters aside, she spurned

the waves on which she rode.

Many a cheek on board the Turk was blanched with anticipations of the

worst, and many a heart trembled which had scarce before felt fear, as

the crew looked on their overwhelming pursuer, now rapidly shortening

her distance from them. Even on the sturdy Captain's brow large drops

of perspiration stood, as he grasped more firmly the helm, casting many

an anxious, but momentary, glance behind him, and then again at his

sails and masts to see that they stood the gale; for he knew that his

vessel's best point of sailing was before the wind, drawing as she did,

so little water, and scarcely seeming to touch the waves as she bounded

along before them. Dark and thick masses of clouds rose rapidly behind

the enemy, causing her sails to appear of snowy whiteness, and making

her seem still more alarmingly near than she really was. As yet,

however, for fear of stopping her way, she had not fired her guns, being

perfectly certain of quickly catching her tiny chase.

The turmoil of the foaming waves, now lashed into ungovernable fury,

increased each moment, while the thick heavy clouds, clashing in their

hurried and disordered race, sent forth reiterated peels of thunder, and

vivid and sharp flashes of forked lightning darted through the air. The

rising sun had for a moment shed forth his beams on the scene of tumult,

casting a bright glittering light on the madly leaping waves; but as if

angry at the wild uproar, again concealed his glory behind the clouds,

leaving a deep gloom on the disturbed waters.

The huge billows rolled along side of the little bark; and, following up

astern, as if eager to grasp her beneath their vortex, threatened every

moment to overwhelm her. Still, however, keeping before them, she

seemed thrown from wave to wave; her head now dashed into the frothy,

boiling cauldron, and now lifted high above the sea, while a dark abyss

threatened below, and a towering billow seemed about to break over, and

inundate her. At intervals also, the clouds, to add to the disorder,

sent forth deluges of rain so thick, as almost to conceal their vast

pursuer from view; but when again it subsided, she was seen approaching

still nearer to them.

At length, the Russian, angry and weary of the long chase, yawed a

little, and discharged his bow chasers in hopes of crippling the Turk,

and bringing him to; but the balls either plunged into the leaping

waves, or flew high above his masts, as difficult it was to take any

certain aim, while so high a sea was running.

When the missiles of destruction passed thus wide of their mark, a laugh

of defiance, which sounded much like desperation, escaped the Reis, as

he watched where they fell. The corvette continued firing, as fast as

the people could load the guns, but without doing any damage to the

chase; and of course, the manoeuvre constantly repeated, made her fall

further astern, till hopeless of hitting so small a mark at that

distance, she desisted from firing; and continuing the pursuit,

followed, according to the shiftings of the wind, the devious track of

the zebeque.

The gale as if wearied by its own violence, seemed to have expended its

fury, and to be passing over; first leaving the larger vessel astern,

which was preparing to make more sail, when it shifted round suddenly to

the west with redoubled fury.

Though the zebeque was thus placed to windward, it was certain

destruction to attempt bringing so crank and light a vessel as she was,

broadside on to that raging sea, which would, in an instant, have

overwhelmed her; on a wind being her worst point of sailing. The only

alternative of unavoidable and quick destruction, was to run still on

before it, and thus to bring the vessel under the very bows of her

gigantic opponent.

Few men, however brave, will rush with their eyes open on certain death,

if it is to be avoided. Not a moment was to be lost in deliberation,

and as the renewed fury of the gale struck her, the zebeque's head was

again turned towards the east, rapidly approaching the enemy.

The respective positions of the vessels may be thus described. The

corvette was to the north, with her head south-east, while the Turk was

running due east; thus approaching each other on two sides of a

triangle, of which the apex was towards the east.

Now was the most trying moment for all on board the Turkish vessel, yet

still there was one remote chance of escape--a hazardous one

unquestionably; and yet, in preference to captivity, it was worth while

to risk destruction. They might, by running down to the Russian, and

pretending to submit, pass under her stern, and escape before the wind.

Yet it was an experiment, the very mention of which might be derided as

the proposition of madmen.

The moment the Russian perceived the change of course the chase had

made, the corvette hauled her wind without stopping to take in sail, and

recommenced firing her guns, to allow no chance to escape, should the

wind again fail, of capturing her almost certain prey. The balls, as

before, at first flew harmlessly through the air, or plunged into the

deep, as, towering in her pride; on she came, heeling over to the

furious blast, and casting the foaming waters high over her broad

swelling lofty bow.

Yet the power, the majesty of man's greatest achievement, seemed as

nought amid the strife and tumult of nature. The roar of the artillery

was mocked to scorn by the far louder crash of heaven's thunder, and the

wild tumult of the waves. The flashes of the guns were far outshone by

the brightness of the vivid lightning; but none in either vessel seemed

to regard the violent fury of the elements, too intent were they on

their own desperate game.

During this awful and critical interval, Ivan stood firm and collected,

though a sad fate seemed to await him. On one side, he saw

imprisonment, degradation, and a hopeless exile: on the other, a certain

death, should the Russians, as was but too probable, when there was no

prospect of a prize of value, run down the vessel which had given them

so much trouble; or if she refused to yield, sink her with their guns.

Ivan earnestly prayed for the latter fate: for of what value would life

be to him, with all its lofty aspirations overthrown, his hopes blasted?

What but misery and hopeless slavery, chains and toil, could he expect,

if he escaped with life? Javis had brought him his sword, which he held

firmly in his grasp, yet somewhat mechanically, perhaps, as if it would

be a satisfaction to die with that in his hand: while Javis, casting

glances of scowling defiance towards the foe, stood ready to defend his

master if it were possible.

And young Conrin, where was he during this time of tumult and danger?

Calm and undismayed, he too stood by his master's side. His courage

seemed to have risen with the imminence of the danger. It was not

ignorance of the peril of their situation which gave him that cool and

intrepid air; for he marked it well, as with unflinching glance he gazed

ever and anon at the coming foe, and then fixed his large flashing eye

intently on his master's face. His brow and cheek were paler than

usual, and his lips compressed: yet it seemed that, although an awful

death was about to overwhelm all on board, his features wore an air of

almost satisfaction and happiness; but he spoke not, nor moved from his

post. It was strange that so young a boy should show such courage at so

trying a moment, when hardy seamen quailed and turned pale with terror.

Well did the gallant old Hadji show that his heart was fearless, and

that he was a warrior-leader of a brave people, whom no danger could

daunt, as rousing himself from his prayers, he stood defying his

enemies, and prepared for the worst. Of his followers and the crew,

some took courage from his example, and bravely grasped their arms, in

the futile hope of, at least, having one blow for life; while others,

pallid and trembling with dismay, tried to shelter themselves behind the

bulwarks of the vessel.

The Russians continued firing without intermission, the shots every

instant falling closer to the mark, till one went through the Turk's

after-sail, and another followed, striking his deck, ploughing up the

wood, and throwing the splinters on every side, ere it bounded

overboard. A few more fell harmlessly; but they were now approaching

frightfully near the Russian, and they could scarcely hope to escape

more of his shots. Another of these missiles came on board tearing away

part of the bulwarks, striking one of the seamen, and carrying his

mangled body with it into the sea. At this event, even the hardy

captain's presence of mind forsook him: his courage for a moment gave

way; and quitting his post, he wrung his hands in despair, leaving the

vessel to her fate.

At this critical juncture, Ivan sprang aft, seizing the captain by the

arm, and forced him to resume his place at the helm.

"For shame, Reis Mustapha!" he exclaimed. "You, have hitherto behaved

like a brave, good seaman, continue to prove that you really are one.

Regard not the shots till they sink us. That can but be our fate at the

last, when all hope has flown. While you live, use all means, all

exertions to escape, for Providence may yet rescue us from destruction."

"Ay, ay, my brother," interrupted the brave old Hadji. "Give not way to

despair while a hope remains. Cowards alone do that. Think you that I

have prayed to Allah and his Prophet for no purpose, that he should thus

abandon his servants? Have I journeyed to his holy city, and kissed the

sacred Kaaba for nought? Still hope that our time is not yet come."

"The noble Hadji speaks truly," added Ivan. "Take the helm, Reis, and

guide us straight onward. We shall soon know the worst."

The Reis obeyed; taking the tiller from the hands of Javis, but with a

look which plainly indicated that he was without hope.

By this time they were close to the corvette; but her guns were now more

carelessly aimed, from the certainty the Russians felt of capturing the

chase.

The awful, the dreaded moment approached, which would too probably

consign every human being on board the zebeque to eternity, for their

huge opponent seemed determined to run them down if their colours were

not instantly lowered, and even then there was but little chance of

their escaping that fate. Another moment and the next vast surge would

bring her upon them! A more tremendous blast than they had hitherto

felt now struck them, hurling their tiny bark before it into the very

jaws of the foe. Deluges of thick rain rushed down, while a loud roar

thundered from the clouds, and a vivid flash of lightning darted through

the air. A loud shriek of despair rose from the crew: their fate was

sealed.

"Allah protect us!" cried the Hadji. "This is an awful time."

The bravest gasped for breath; the deck seemed to shake beneath their

feet. The sea dashed over them, but the thick falling rain obscured all

around from their sight.

The young page gazed more earnestly at his master, but his limbs

trembled not, nor did a word escape his lips.

The dreaded shock came not; the vessel still floated on the waves; the

thick rain ceased.

Again a cry arose from the Turkish crew, but it was no longer that of

terror. "Where is the Giaour? where is the Russian ship?" was uttered

by the voices of all. They had passed her.

There she lay, close on their quarter, with her head to the wind, her

foremast shattered to the deck, the spars and rigging dashing against

her sides, her bulwarks stove in: the proud ship of Russia, was a

wreck--she was on fire!

Even at that moment of confusion, some small guns were fired over her

stern, with a determined feeling of animosity and revenge, in the hopes

of doing some injury, but their shot fell impotently into the waves, and

the crew were too much occupied with their own preservation, to pay any

further attention to the hard-driven chase.

Loud prayers ascended from the deck of the Turk, for their narrow and

providential escape; Ivan's heartbeat quicker with gratitude than it had

with fear; while young Conrin clasped his hands with silent fervour, and

seemed ready to fall at his master's feet with joy.

The Hadji, having concluded his brief prayer, exclaimed; "Did I not tell

you, Reis, that Allah would protect us, that my prayers would not be in

vain? Look, where the late impious Kaffir lies shattered and scathed by

Heaven's rage, at the very moment he thought himself secure of his prey.

Another time think not that it is your kismet [fate] to die; that will

come in Allah's good time; but strive on always to the last. Think you

my countrymen could hold out against our mighty foe, if we thought that

it was our kismet to be conquered? Bosh! kismet is a good thing, when

it points to victory; but else it is nonsense. No, my brother, no;

strive while you can, and yield to fate only when it overpowers you."

These principles the gallant Hadji not only preached, but with the rest

of his countrymen, practised.

As the danger diminished, so did the courage of the terror-stricken crew

return. They taunted with gestures their crippled and now impotent foe,

as the light zebeque bounded away from her before the gale. "Why don't

you come on now?" some cried. "See, Giaour; see, cowardly Kaffir, we

are sailing away from you; why don't you follow us as before? Come on,

then, come on. We cannot wait for you. We are in a hurry to pursue our

voyage."

With such like expressions the crew shewed their delight at their

escape, while rapidly scudding onward they soon run the corvette out of

sight. As long as her movements could be distinguished, she remained

with her head still to the wind, dipping her bows under the waves which

broke in deluges over her. Thick wreaths of smoke rose from that part

of her deck where her foremast had stood, curling round her remaining

masts as it was blown aft; but that in time decreased, and the fire was

apparently got under. So little mercy had she shewn to the zebeque,

that no commiseration was felt for her fate, whatever it might be.

Those only who have escaped from imminent peril, when either death or

slavery has been about to overtake them, can fully enter into the

feelings of gratitude and satisfaction which our hero experienced, as

the last topmast sails of the Russian ship sank below the horizon; and

those only who have seen a loved object rescued from a threatened

danger, can feel as the young Conrin did; for few could love so well as

that strangely enthusiastic and romantic boy loved his master.

They continued on their course, running all day before the wind, which

drove them towards their destination, each moment dreading to fall in

with another Russian cruiser; but not a sail appeared to alarm them. By

night the wind, still keeping favourable, subsided to a gentle breeze,

while a sharp lookout was kept from the mast-head for another enemy, or

to discover the coast, which they knew they must be now nearing.

Volume 2, Chapter IV.

The territory of the Circassian tribes is bounded on the north by the

River Kouban, which separates it from the lands now inhabited by the

Tchernemorskoi Cossacks, whom the Russians--after utterly annihilating

the former inhabitants, (not using the words in a figurative sense)--

placed there as a rough and sturdy outwork to their empire. From the

mouths of the Kouban it is bounded by the Black Sea, the coast trending

from the north-west to the south-east as far as Iscuria, on the mouth of

the Salamache River, which separates it on the south from the province

of Mingrelia, now nominally subject to Russia. To the south-east is the

former kingdom of Georgia, now also brought under subjection to the same

benign and far reaching power. To the north-east, the sources of the

Kouban and some of its numerous mountain tributaries pass through its

present borders, the plains beyond having been conquered by Russia. To

the east, the boundaries are uncertain, depending on those natural

fortifications, the inaccessible cliffs of the Caucasus; but the tribes

even to the very shores of the Caspian, have set their invaders at

defiance, and have joined the league of the patriot Circassians.

Circassia Proper is divided into Lower Abasia to the north, bordering on

the Kouban, and Upper Abasia to the south; the inhabitants of the former

being by far the most civilised and polished of the two, though both

equally cordial in detestation of their invaders. These two divisions

are again separated into provinces, those of Nottakhaotzi, Khapsoukhi,

Bredoukha, and of the Demirghoi, in Lower Abasia, which is the part of

the country to which we are about to introduce our readers. The tribes

keep distinct from each other, though the members of each live scattered

about in all parts of the country.

The whole of the independent part of Circassia is mountainous, that

alone having: been able to withstand the immensely superior force which

the Russians brought against them; but the tribes of the plains equally

hate their conquerors, and take every opportunity of escaping to join

their still free countrymen. Indeed, the whole, or greater part, of

some tribes have migrated to the mountains to be released from Russian

oppression, leaving their homes, their fields, and their property, to

ruin and destruction.

There are no cities or towns in Circassia; the inhabitants preferring

the freedom and health of a mountain life to the trammels and formality

of the city, and each chief choosing the most beautiful and romantic

spot for his habitation, while his followers and dependents collect in

hamlets in the neighbourhood.

The principal rivers falling into the Kouban are the Kara Kouban, the

Ubin, the Aranos, the Laba, and the Urup; those which empty themselves

into the Black Sea are the Sukhoi, the Mezi, near the Russian Fort

Ghelendjik, the Toughe, the Soubachi, which divides Upper and Lower

Abasia, the Kenehili, the Llhena, the Kodos, and the Salmache, which

separates the country from Mingrelia. Numerous other streams and

rivulets meander through the whole country, and fertilise every vale.

At the time to which our story refers, the Russians had succeeded in

erecting several forts in the boundaries of the country; those of Anapa

and Ghelendjik on the coast, both built under the protection of a

powerful army, aided by the guns from their ship. They have established

also a line of fortified towns to the north of the Kouban, the principal

of which are Ekatermodar, Labinskai, Stavrapol, Alexandrof, and

Georgivesk, forming a road of communication from the Black Sea towards

the Caspian, called the Valdi Caucasse. But even between these towns

the Russians cannot move except with a strong escort, as otherwise they

would run the greatest risk of being cut off by the mountaineers, who

descending from their fastnesses, frequently make excursions far beyond

them. There are also other forts of less importance, which will be

mentioned in the course of our history.

The origin of the Circassians, like that of all nations who have

tradition alone to hand down their history, is clouded in obscurity.

They themselves do not pretend to know from what race they are sprung,

but it is certain that they are of very great antiquity, and have in all

ages been celebrated for their bravery and other warlike qualities,

their courtesy, and the surpassing beauty of their women. At one period

they inhabited an extended tract of territory, comprising the Crimea,

and all the country bordering on the Sea of Marmora and the Euxine; but

the tribes dwelling in that country either became amalgamated with the

Tartars, or were driven thence by the superior numbers of that people,

as the pure stock is now only to be found among the mountains of the

Caucasus, or in the plains immediately below them.

It seems probable, that the Circassians are of Median extraction, and

were at one time as civilised as any of the surrounding nations, if not

more so: but it must be confessed that they have not advanced, even with

the same steps in the arts and sciences as their neighbours; though they

retain in a greater degree the polished and courteous manners, and

heroic virtues which formed the pride of the nations of antiquity. The

tribes which boast of belonging to the purer race, unmixed with any

foreign blood, distinguish themselves by the name of Atteghei, and as in

Great and Little Karbadia, their language is spoken with the greatest

purity. Those provinces have most likely from time immemorial, been

inhabited by the true Circassians, who thence scattered themselves over

the surrounding districts, either by conquest, or by finding the land

unoccupied.

The people to whom we give the general name of Circassians, call

themselves Atteghei; some writers mention them as Carbadians, from their

former country of Karbadia, while the Turks and Russians call them

without distinction, Abasians.

There are four classes of society among them, the first, that of the

Pchees or Princes, who are the heads of the most powerful tribes; the

Ouzdens or nobles, many of whom, at present, have no real power, but who

disdain to intermix their blood with those below them; the Tocavs or

Freemen, many of whom possess wealth, and are, except in blood, equal to

the nobles; and lastly, the serfs, or slaves taken in war, who in time

become incorporated into the tribes of their masters, and may gain their

freedom. The power of the Princes has of late years much declined,

though they are treated with the strictest observances of respect, by

those of inferior rank.

In some tribes, the chiefs are hereditary, while in others, a head is

chosen among the principal nobles of their own tribe, for his life,

except he should prove incapable, in which case he is deposed, and

another elected in his stead. At times also, instead of the head of the

tribe, a leader is chosen to conduct them to war, while the former acts

in a civil capacity alone.

In no country is greater respect shewn by inferiors to those above them

in rank or age; and in no country has the spirit of clanship been

carried further, all being bound to revenge the death of one of their

tribe on the slayer; and, should the offender not be given up, on the

life of any member of his family; the Lex Talionis, being indeed the

principal law of the land, as it must be in all countries, where there

is no fixed government to dispense justice.

The government, indeed, such as it is, may be looked upon rather as a

Republic, than as an Oligarchy; for those of all ranks may give their

opinion, and vote at the public meetings, though the princes and chiefs

of clans have the most influence, and their sentiments are looked upon

with the greatest respect. Perhaps, no country is more free, or

governed with so much regularity and order.

Each man may if oppressed, leave his chief, and put himself under the

protection of another; changing his lands at will to any spot he may

find unoccupied, no one having the right of keeping lands he does not

cultivate. Though, for many generations, they have remained under

successive descendants of the same chief; they are bound by no other

tie, than that of love and respect, while so carefully does each class

guard its own privileges, that no chief has ever succeeded in uniting

the whole under his own authority.

Their laws are few and simple, exactly suited to their state of society,

and so strictly enforced, that they are comparatively rarely infringed;

each tribe being answerable for the crimes of any individual member, who

consequently offends equally against his own friends. All claims are

settled by a jury, composed of six members from the respective tribes,

and are generally arranged by payment of fines, two hundred head of

oxen, being the fine for manslaughter, and so on for theft, abduction,

etc. Should the fine not be paid by the time agreed on, the sufferers

carry off the cattle, and destroy the fences and fields of the

offenders.

It must be understood, that these tribes of the Atteghei are not

distinct races, but merely families who have been, perhaps for ages,

bound together by a solemn oath, to support each other in every way,

forming a brotherhood, as it were, who consider themselves so nearly

related, that they may not even intermarry with each other.

The religious faith of the people, is formed of a belief in one

omnipotent Being, and in the immortality of the soul; but they have no

established priests. The elders and most venerable chiefs, or those

most noted for piety, together with their aged bards, perform the few

and simple ceremonies of religion. Their place of worship is in some

secluded grove of aged and lofty trees, held sacred for ages by their

ancestors, whose tombs lie around them.

Let our readers ask themselves, if such worship is not more likely to be

grateful to the Divine Being, than the gross superstition and bigoted

idolatry of the benighted Russian, who scarcely knows the name of his

Maker.

There is not the slightest doubt, but that Christianity was at one time

the prevailing religion of the country, as there are numerous crosses in

all parts, still looked up to with veneration by the people; and there

are the ruins also of several churches. It is said, that in some parts

of the interior of the more remote districts of Upper Abasia, the people

still profess Christianity unmixed with any Pagan observances.

The Circassians divide the week as among us, considering Sunday as the

most sacred day. Easter is celebrated by them as a holy feast, with the

utmost pomp, beginning with a strict fast. They have several saints or

inferior deities, guardians, they say, of the air, water, the harvest,

the summer, in whose honour they hold festivals at stated seasons, as in

Catholic countries; particularly one, which they celebrate much in the

same manner as the feast of St. John, in some parts of Germany, by

decking a tree with flowers, lights, and other ornaments. Except on

these particular days, they do not pay their presiding guardians any

attention, nor even then, do they pray to them, but offer up sacrifices

by immolating victims on an altar, according to the old Pagan custom of

Greece and Rome. They meet in the sacred groves to pray before going to

battle, and after a victory.

No religious ceremonies take place at their marriages, the couple being

alone betrothed in the presence of their friends, (as is now the lawful

way of coupling people in civilised England) when a feast is given, and

games take place.

The burial ceremonies, even of a chief or warrior, are simple,

consisting of a funeral oration, pronounced over his grave, while hymns

are sung by those who attend the procession to his last resting-place.

The anniversary of his death is celebrated with feasts, and prayers over

his tomb, decked with flowers.

Mahometism has of late years been introduced into the Caucasus by the

Turks, and some mosques have been established, but it has not gained

much ground; their ancient institutions being too deeply rooted in the

affections of the people, though numbers now profess it, but conform to

its customs, as far only as their inclination leads them.

The Circassians are, in general, a most abstemious people, living

chiefly on a farinaceous diet, and though possessing spirituous liquors

and wine, they use them in moderation, indulging in them, as well as in

meat, only on their great feasts.

They are hospitable in an unbounded degree, their guest-houses ever

standing open for the reception of visitors, but they have been taught,

by the vilest treachery, too often practised against them by the

instigation of the Russians, to be suspicious of strangers coming

without a recommendation to them. Any one, however, who may visit their

country under the protection of one of their chiefs, they are ready to

protect to the utmost with their lives, each noble vieing with the other

in paying their guest attention.

They have the deepest veneration for age, listening to the counsels of

their elders, and obeying their commands.

To the female sex also, they pay the most chivalrous devotion. Their

minstrel's highest theme, next to their warrior's deeds, is the praise

of woman's charms, and the proudest noble treats the lowly maiden with

every consideration and respect, nor thinks himself demeaned in aiding

her in any occupation in which she may be engaged.

The lower orders are in the habit of sending their daughters to the

Constantinopolitan matrimonial market, (for so it is to them,)

receiving, however, some valuable consideration, to insure their safe

arrival there. The Circassians also take every precaution to hear

continually of the welfare of their daughters in Turkey; nor do they

ever compel them to go against their will, or, as in the more civilised

countries of Europe, drive them to contract a hateful marriage, or offer

them the dreadful alternative of being immured for life in a convent.

The nobles never allow their daughters to marry, except with one of

their own rank, and when they send them to Stamboul, it is to become the

chief sultana of some Pacha's harem, an arrangement the fair girls

consider the happiest fate which could befall them, though exchanging

the liberty of their mountains for riches, splendour, and a prison, but

gaining what they never could at home, entire liberty, on the death of

their lord, and frequently considerable wealth. The Circassian girls

are much prized in the Turkish harems, beyond their beauty, for their

various useful and ornamental accomplishments.

We have said that there are no towns, the people living in villages,

hamlets, or detached dwellings. The houses consist only of a ground

floor, built of wood plastered over, and neatly thatched. The dwelling

of a chief consists of several separate divisions: the anderoon, or

women's apartments; that of the lord himself; and the guest-house;

besides the houses of the servants, the granaries, and stables for the

horses and cattle.

It is curious to see the interior of what appears a humble cottage,

filled with rich couches of silk, magnificent Turkey carpets, splendid

armour and weapons, inlaid tables and other valuable articles.

Some of the villages are fortified, but in a manner to afford no

protection against cannon. They are generally situated by the side of

some limpid stream, and in the most picturesque situations.

They speak a language entirely different from any other known tongue;

but Turkish and Arabic is understood by many of their chiefs, who have

served in Turkey and Egypt. Several also have been in the Russian

service; but have returned to their native country to defend her rights,

in preference to indulging in luxury and ease under a despot.

They say that their fighting men amount to two hundred thousand; but

every man amongst them is a warrior.

The arts are at a very low ebb among them, though they possess the

greatest skill in forging their armour and weapons, which they emboss

beautifully. They also work in gold and silver embroidery; but it must

be confessed they are totally ignorant of science, nor have they even a

written language, and very few among them can read Turkish, though they

pay the greatest respect to the Koran, with which they administer their

oaths.

They are very industrious, having brought their lands into the highest

state of cultivation, thus enabling them within a small extent of

country, aided by the fertility of the soil, to support a large

population. The farms are kept with the greatest neatness, and

surrounded with thriving orchards. They possess also large flocks and

herds.

On all public occasions and when engaged in war, the chiefs wear

complete suits of splendid armour, much like that of the ancient

Persians, from whose country they sometimes procure it at the present

day. On a foray, when activity is most requisite, and they wish not to

be distinguished from their followers, they have under their ordinary

dress, light coats of chain armour of most exquisite workmanship, many

of which are made in the country, and others come from Persia. They

possess rifles and pistols, but many still use the long bow and arrow,

with which they can take the most deadly aim. They have also long

swords, and the broad two-edged dagger, such as was used by the Romans

of old, a most murderous weapon in their hands. They use also a sharp

straight sabre without a guard to the hilt. The ordinary dress of all

classes is elegant and picturesque.

There are numerous wild animals in Circassia, such as bears, wolves,

jackals, and stags, which the people eagerly hunt. Their horses are

celebrated for speed and strength, and they are perhaps the most expert

horsemen in the world.

We will now sum up the character of the Circassians. No one, even their

enemies, can deny that they possess the most heroic bravery and

undaunted courage, the most devoted love of liberty, are hospitable to

the utmost of their means, generous in the extreme, virtuous in their

lives, and abstemious in their habits; that they venerate age, are

courteous and gentle to their women, polished in their manners to each

other, more especially to strangers, humane to their prisoners, have a

firm reliance on the goodness of the divinity, a deep sense of religion,

and the strictest regard to an oath, which is inviolable among them; and

yet, this being no highly coloured or overdrawn character, these are the

people, whom the Russian stigmatise as untameable barbarians, whom it

will be a benefit to the human race to sweep from the face of the earth.

Volume 2, Chapter V.

The now calm, glass-like waters shone with a rich glow of orange tint

reflected from the sky, as the sun rose in majestic glory from his ocean

bed. The sails of the Turkish bark caught the radiance, as, impelled by

a gentle air, she glided through the sea of molten gold.

As the deep glow gradually faded from the horizon, leaving a clear view

of the ocean's margin, the man from the mast-head shouted in tones of

delight, "Abasa! Abasa! land! land! the land of Circassia!" The effect

was electrical. All on board turned their gaze towards the east. The

Hadji and the devout Mahometans ceased from their morning prayer; the

seamen mounted the rigging; and, as a light gauze-like veil of mist was

drawn up to the sky, the blue mountains of the lofty Caucasian range

appeared just rising above the waters in the far distance.

Ivan's heart beat with enthusiastic delight as he gazed on the land of

his birth, the land of all his most romantic aspirations. The

accomplishment of his eager wishes--the fulfilment of his vow--would not

much longer be deferred. His earnest gaze was fixed on the scene, as

mountain after mountain, and hill after hill, rose to view.

As the zebeque glided swiftly towards land, the more minute details of

the landscape could be distinguished; mountains of every fantastic form

were seen piled one on another, clothed with verdure from the bright

water's edge to the topmost peak, where they seemed lost in the pure

blue sky. Trees of various foliage bent over precipitous and rugged

cliffs, bounding a smiling valley, through which meandered a sparkling

stream; by its banks grazed herds of cattle while numerous horses

galloped in unrestrained freedom over the velvet lawn.

The zebeque had made the shore rather too far to the south of their

destination, and as she coasted calmly along, Ivan gazed with enraptured

and untiring eye on the lovely scene. Far as the eye could reach, up

the sides of the steep sloping hills, numerous flocks of white sheep

were seen quietly grazing, and from craig to craig, bounded nimbly with

long and slender limbs the jet black goats.

He looked on the unostentatious abodes of his countrymen, their little

cots built on the slopes of the gently swelling hills, amid fields of

ripening corn, their farm yards surrounded by groves of trees covered

with fruit, from among which the thin smoke from their domestic hearths

curled upward in wreathy pillars. All around appeared the abodes of

contentment and peace--how sadly deceitful and treacherous. In another

day all might be laid waste, and a howling desert usurp its place.

The lately dignified Hadji, excited to the most enthusiastic delight,

walked the deck with the activity of youth, pointing out to Ivan the

names of the different little inlets, bays, valleys, and mountains as

they coasted along.

They were saluted too, as they passed, by many a band of warriors,

hastening towards the scene of strife in the north, where their invaders

had landed. Many a gallant chief, in his war array, his bright armour

glittering in the sun, galloped by, waving his shining sword to salute

them, attended by a band of followers, shouting defiance to their foes,

and singing hymns of victory.

No one seemed to enter into Ivan's feelings so well as young Conrin,

whose eyes brightened with delight unusual to him as he gazed ever and

anon at his master's countenance: and then turned them towards the

lovely scene, whose beauties he seemed to enjoy the more that they were

seen by one he loved.

The spot where the Reis had appointed to land was near the Bay of Pchad,

in sight of which they soon came. Here a dense forest covered, with

thickest foliage, both the mountain side and the shore to the very

water's edge, affording a secure shelter to the inhabitants, should any

of their enemies attempt to land in order to destroy their vessels. The

zebeque ran boldly on towards the smooth yellow sand, almost

overshadowed by the trees; and as she neared the shore, a man, whose

glittering armour and helmet, decked with an eagle's plume, betokened

him a chieftain, approached the water, mounted on a coal-black steed,

and urging the noble animal up to his girths into the sea, he waved his

sword, and courteously beckoned to the strangers to land. Having

saluted them, he again slowly and with dignity retired from the shore.

As the vessel's keel almost touched the sand, her anchor was let go, her

sails being quickly furled by her eager crew, delighted at thus having

brought their hazardous adventure to a successful issue. In a moment,

she was surrounded by boats from the shore, to lighten her of her cargo

ere she was drawn up on the beach beneath the shelter of the trees.

Into the first the Hadji, our hero, and his two followers stepped; and

as her bow touched the strand of Circassia, the natives flocked around,

eager to welcome the strangers to their shores.

Ivan's heart leaped with joy as his foot touched his native land; and he

would have knelt down in gratitude to heaven, and kissed the soil he had

so eagerly longed to tread, but that the presence of the surrounding

multitude prevented his giving way to his feelings. For an instant,

then, that sensation of blankness, of loneliness, that unsatisfied

feeling, which sometimes comes over us, when we fancy that our desires

are accomplished, seized him, and oppressed his spirits, as accompanied

by his two retainers, he followed the Hadji towards the spot to which

the chieftain had retired.

No sooner did the latter see the Hadji approaching, than he leaped from

his steed, which his squire held while he hastened to meet him. The two

aged men, for the noble warrior seemed far advanced in years, rushed

forward; their dignity thrown aside, and falling on each other's necks,

they embraced and almost wept for joy.

"My brother!" exclaimed the aged chief; "hast thou, indeed, again

returned to me from thy long and perilous pilgrimage among strange

people? Do I again see the noble pride of our race in life and

strength? Allah be praised for all his mercies!"

"Yes, my brother!" rejoined the Hadji, "yes, Allah is merciful. I have

escaped all dangers, and my heart rejoices to see you still able to bear

arms against our foes; but say, my brother, how fares my son Alp, my

well-loved young son? Does the boy live? Does he still follow up the

early promise of his youth?"

"Your son, my brother, is well worthy of your name. He still dwells

with his Attalick; but being well skilled in all martial exercises, he

is now able to follow you to the field, and has already gained some

honour against the enemy. It will rejoice your heart to see him, and

you will seem to live your youth over again as you recognise yourself in

him."

"To Allah and his prophet be all praise," replied the Hadji, piously.

"Then am I content. But say, my brother, does my wife still live to

rejoice in the growing promise of our son?"

"Yes, yes, she still lives."

"Allah be praised!" again ejaculated the Hadji. "And say, does my

sister still live; does she also rejoice in the noble deeds of your

gallant sons? Are they yet numbered among the stern bulwarks of our

country? Do their steeds yet carry them like thunder-bolts against the

foe?"

The old warrior shook his head.

"Alas! my brother, the leaden death of the hated Urus [the name the

Circassians give to the Russians] have laid two in the graves of our

fathers, where they sleep the sleep of the brave; but the rest yet

remain to avenge their fate."

"God is great," answered the Hadji, "and by his prophet's help we will

yet take ample vengeance on their destroyers."

"Allah is merciful, and will give us blood for blood," replied the

other. "But think not that they died ere they had made their foes pay

dearly for their death. No, hundreds of the slavish Urus fell before

their conquering sabres; and in that thought, I cease to mourn, but yet

what are the lives of a thousand Urus to one true son of the Atteghei?"

"Bosh! as nothing. As chaff to corn, as dross to pure gold; but we will

avenge them brother," said the Hadji, grasping his sword. "My heart

will beat with joy, when I find myself once more among their ranks."

"That may soon be; for their ships, but a short time ago, landed a large

force on the coast to the north, who are yet shut up in their fort. But

say, who are these strangers who accompany you? What do they here?"

"In the first joyful moment of meeting you I thought not of them, but

will now attend to the duties of hospitality," And introducing Ivan, the

Hadji added, "I bring with me, one who is our countryman, my adopted

son, next to Alp in my love; regard him as such, for my sake."

"To me he will always be welcome," replied the chief, taking Ivan by the

hand. "And I will believe that he is worthy to be a true son of the

Atteghei. But come, we will waste no further time here. He and his

attendants shall accompany us, while some of my followers shall stay to

bring up your goods from the vessel. We will at once repair to the

dwelling of the noble Prince of Pchad, whither I was bound, when I saw

your vessel approaching the land. He will welcome you with the arms of

friendship. Away, my Deli Khans," he cried, addressing several young

men who surrounded him. "Give notice to the noble Prince of our coming,

and say, moreover, that some strangers accompany us."