III.

"When pain and anguish wring the brow,

A ministering angel thou."

Scott.

If I went to sleep with a cheerful impression of the Black Mountain, my

first glance next morning dispelled it. I woke at four, dressed, and

then put my head out of the one small window, from which I could see the

village of Cetigna, bathed in white moonlight. This village, which, by

the way, is the capital of Montenegro, seemed to consist of scarcely

twenty hovels or houses, scattered about; a corner of a larger building

was visible, which I found afterwards was the Prince-bishop's palace. A

crag rose opposite my window, on the top of which stood a low round

tower, crowned with at least twenty Turkish skulls, fixed to tall

stakes. Strange trophies those Turkish heads were for the residence of

a Christian bishop! Spira's entrance diverted my eyes and thoughts from

these horrible proofs of Montenegrin ferocity; and after partaking of an

inviting little breakfast of Mr Popham'a arranging I mounted my mule,

and we set out. He rode also, and Spira and Giuro trudged alongside.

Leaving Cetigna and its grassy plain behind, we rode down a rough and

dangerous ascent. We saw not a human being till, on turning a sharp

corner, we suddenly came on a party of Black Mountaineers--

active-looking fellows, coming up from the Turkish frontier, and singing

snatches of wild songs as they went. They were going to their homes to

celebrate some feast, and meant to be back again under their Bishop's

standard before night. As usual with these highland soldiers, they had

asked nobody's leave but their own for this freak. They looked hard at

me and then at Mr Popham, and pointed out to one another, well pleased,

the Fez cap which he wore and politely took off to them. Hats and

European caps of all sorts, you must know, they have a special dislike

to. Spira and some of them exchanged greetings, and in reply to her

questions one of them said:--"Basil Basilovich was well at sunset; I saw

him with a fresh head at his girdle, guarding the hut of the wounded

stranger from the west." There was nothing to be gleaned from them

respecting Mr Englefield's state, so we pushed on once more, my eyes

fixed on the brightening east, where presently the sun came up like a

torch. We now came down on a rapid, clear, green stream, which hurries

to the Lake of Scutari.

The stream widened into a little river, and we suddenly turned to the

right, and went down to its bank through a patch of Indian corn seven

feet high. A number of wild ducks flew out of the reeds, startled

partly by our approach, partly by that of a boat, in which sat a

solitary figure rowing vigorously. "It is Basil!" cried Spira,

joyfully. He heard the voice, looked up, saw her, recognised me with a

start of glad surprise, and at once ran his boat ashore, and joined us.

Spira, after four days' separation, did not know how to make enough of

him. He seemed in his lordly manner truly glad to see her again, and

asked with much earnestness after his boy. To me his manner was one of

almost reverential courtesy; scarcely durst I ask him how he had left

Laurie, but while the question was faltering on my tongue, Spira came

out with it in round, unvarnished terms, saying, "Is our good Englishman

alive?--is he better?"

"Alive, but not better," answered Basil bluffly; "a hurt which I should

have forgotten in three days has eaten into his very flesh and bone;

there must be devilry in it, and I am on my way to fetch priest Jovan

from Nariako to exorcise him."

"Take me to him first, kind Basil," said I anxiously; "I too have

soothing spells here," pointing to the valise which held my remedies,

"nor shall prayers be wanting to aid them." I wept as I spoke; Basil,

with some odd contortions of feature, meant, I believe, to drive back

sympathetic tears, beckoned us to get into the boat. Spira and he

followed with my light baggage, and Giuro remained behind in charge of

the animals. Softly and swiftly we glided along, the green waters

rippling and gurgling round our boat. The river gradually widened till

it grew into a lake, the lovely Lake of Scutari. Of its beauties I can

say little, for, indeed, they fell on a heedless eye; but I remember

well the deeply indented shore to our left, under which we stole along,

the flocks of ducks and cormorants, and the noble milk-white herons that

rose up screaming at our approach.

"Your husband lies yonder, near the crest of this next hill," said Basil

to me, indicating by a jerk of his chin a craggy height almost

overhanging the water; "your excellency would see the roof of the hut,

but a wild cherry tree hides it." Then he explained to me (Mr Popham

not understanding his dialect) that we had but to double one more

headland, and we should come to a creek, and a landing-place, and a path

leading straight to the hut. You may think how my heart bounded to be

there!

But we were reckoning without our host. On rounding the headland there

was the path indeed, like a white thread on the green height, but it was

beset by foes. Several shots fired from that direction showed this too

plainly; and I saw Basil's eyes dilate with wonder and wrath as he

marked the quick flashes, the smoke, the sharp report of fire-arms in

the tall thicket. The fact was, the enemy had within the last quarter

of an hour stolen on a party of mountaineers set to guard that point,

and surprised them. Our friends were fighting with their usual

desperate bravery, but they seemed likely to be worsted. Basil now

signed to Mr Popham that we must turn back, and effect a landing on the

other side of the headland; and accordingly ten minutes' rowing brought

us back to that point. Meanwhile, Mr Popham drew closer to me, and

said, with a grave solicitude scarcely natural to him, "You see the plan

is that we should scale the hill on this side, which the enemy has not

reached--possibly may not attempt to reach. Once at the top--where

Laurie is, I mean--you are safe enough, for a strong body of the black

highlanders is posted there; and the Turks would have no object that I

could see in attacking them. But, dear Mrs Englefield, there _is_ a

certain amount of risk in the ascent. I ought not to disguise this from

you. If it--the ascent, I mean--should occupy much time (and it is so

steep and tangled that it might prove tedious); and if our friends

should be driven back speedily, the Turks might be upon us before we

reached the crest. Mind, I don't say it is probable, but it is

possible. For a man the risk is a trifle, not worth thinking twice

about; but for a woman!--Good heavens!--that's quite another thing."

He paused, then added, "The sum of all this is, that I want you to turn

back with Spira, and stay at the next hamlet till this alarm is over.

Basil will guide me back to Laurie, and we will cheer him with the hope

of your coming. I am a poor nurse compared with you, but I'll do my

best."

He was so kind, so in earnest, poor fellow! I wrung his hand, and said,

"Thank you again and again. You are a true friend, and Laurie knows it.

But if you won't think me obstinate, I would rather go on; Laurie may

be very ill, very wretched; and the wild people about him may not know

how to treat him. You would hardly know, perhaps, for you can't be used

to sick-room ways, and Laurie's ways in particular. From what you say,

the risk is small, almost nothing; and I was brought up at the foot of

Skiddaw, and can climb like a cat, so I should not delay you; and--"

"Enough!" he said, resuming his offhand manner. "Such an array of

reasons cannot be gainsaid; and, indeed, I shouldn't feel comfortable in

leaving you down here with no champion but little Spira, so let us be

off at once. Head the van, you see, by crossing this Slough of Despond

on friend Basil's back!"

Danger always sharpens my sense of the ridiculous, and the sight of

Basil steadying himself with a pole, and striding through the mire with

the long-legged Englishman on his back, fairly upset my gravity. He

soon landed him, and came back for me; lifting me on one arm, and

carrying me as easily and tenderly as if I had been little Nilo.

Well! we scrambled up the pathless steep, through oaks and ashes of

mushroom growth to a height of perhaps two hundred feet. It was

troublesome climbing, for there was an undergrowth of brier and bramble

which tore my clothes, and the sharp crags which jutted in all

directions out of the ground cut my feet; nevertheless, I progressed

rapidly, outstripping Spira and Mr Popham, and keeping alongside of

Basil, who now and then stretched out a helping hand to me and nodded

grim approval.

No one uttered a word, and a sign from Basil made us understand that we

were to keep in the shade, lest, perchance, some of the enemy might be

straggling in our direction. I was growing tired and breathless, when

our herculean guide signed to me to look upwards. My eye following the

lead of his finger, travelled across a curtain of foliage--the delicate

ash leaf, faded and ready to drop away; the sturdier oak, brown, yellow,

dull green, or blotted with crimson. At the top of all was a hut

perched on the edge of the cliff; that was Laurie's hut, Basil

whispered. I could see the wall, built of rough stones, and a miserable

little hole meant for a window, and a bright patch of red, probably a

"strucca," stuffed into it to keep out the cold. At that sight I forgot

my fatigue, and Mr Popham grew excited, and waved his cap over his

head, crying, "Hurrah! Now go ahead, Mrs Englefield!" for which piece

of boyish folly he received a frown from Basil, the darkest I ever saw

on human face.

We were brought here to a standstill by a smooth wall of rock about ten

feet high. In order to get round it, we had to crawl some yards to our

right, that is nearer to the scene of conflict. There were voices,

trampling of feet, and the report of fire-arms, close by, as it seemed,

but really on the shoulder of the hill, a quarter of a mile off. "More

foes climbing the hill!" Basil muttered; "I know their tread. Why do

not our men come down, and give them the meeting? Ah, they _are_

coming! praise to Saint Basil! I hear them--I see them;" and he lifted

his head cautiously, and fixed his lynx eyes on a point where the

hillside met the pale blue sky. "They are pouring down--twenty, thirty

of them! Not one would stay behind, I warrant! Ah, why must I?"

"Why must you, husband?" responded Spira, but in a submissive tone.

"Go, and trust me to guide our lady to her husband. I will die sooner

than any harm should befall her."

It was a tempting offer, but the noble fellow resisted it. "Go to," he

said, still in the same low voice. "What! leave our Nilo's preserver to

the care of a woman, and of a prating boy that knows not how to take

care of himself? Peace, woman! not another word!"

We climbed the rock at the first practicable place, Basil mounting

first, and lowering one end of his "strucca" for me to hold by. Mr

Popham followed, saying, playfully, in my ear, "Ticklish work, ain't it;

this holding on by one's nails and eyebrows?"

Poor, poor John! yet why should I say so? No doubt, Providence ordered

all that should befall him, and ordered it in mercy. He was of too

yielding a nature, perhaps, to fight the battle of life, yet too

tender-hearted and right-minded to err without anguish of spirit. Yes,

I see now, and Laurie sees, that all was ordered for the best! But to

proceed.

We now crept towards the left, on a narrow ledge surmounted by a natural

wall, similar to that we had scaled. This wall and the shelf beneath

it, jutted out at one point so as to conceal all beyond it; when Basil

reached the spot, he looked stealthily round the angle of the rock, drew

back sharply, shouldered his gun, and signed to Mr Popham to do the

same. At that instant, two shots were fired by the unseen foes, but

fell harmless. Basil advanced, partially screened by the rock, took aim

and fired; then I heard branches crashing. Certainly the enemy had been

struck or fled; but there were more behind,--three, four, turbaned Turks

pressing round the corner! Basil, seeing them, flung down his gun and

threw himself upon the foremost. The Turk seemed not much behind him in

strength, and for several terrible minutes they wrestled together, John

Popham's threatening attitude as he stood ready to fire, keeping the

others at bay. The struggle ended by Basil's enemy slipping his foot,

and being flung down the steep. I know not whether he was badly hurt or

not, but he gave us no more trouble, vanishing amid the brushwood with

magic speed. His three comrades now showed some disposition to do the

same, but Basil would not let them; he snatched, with a fierce smile,

the gun I had reloaded (yes, I _could_ load a gun, your uncle had taught

me to do that early in our married life), and fired it at the foremost

man, but to my infinite relief, with no deadly effect. The poor fellow,

though slightly wounded, summoned strength to dash over the precipice

and make his escape. The third followed unhurt; only one remained, an

elderly wrinkled man, who, it seemed, knew something of Christian and

civilised usages; he threw down his gun, cast himself at John Popham's

feet, and in an abject, yet piteous tone, exclaimed, "Quarter, quarter,

noble sir; you are no Montenegrin to slay a helpless old man."

Poor John could not make out a word of this appeal, but the cry for

mercy could not be mistaken, and it found an instant response in his

gentle heart. He gave the suppliant a re-assuring nod, and signed to

the astounded Basil that he would not permit him to be touched. Alas,

what availed his kind intentions? I have been told there is no instance

on record of a Black Mountaineer giving quarter to a Mussulman, to such

lengths have ages of oppression goaded a generous people! Seeing the

deadly fire in Basil's eye, I flew to him and plied him with prayers and

angry expostulations. All in vain; he beckoned Spira to lead me away as

one should give over a petted but troublesome child to its nurse, and

deliberately put a pistol to the old man's head. "Now, if this is not

butchery, I don't know what is!" I heard John exclaim; and without a

moment's hesitation, he snatched at the pistol and tried to wrest it

from Basil's grasp. I could not see exactly what passed, but there was

a moment's struggle, then a report, and the ball lodged in John's

breast. Oh, the agony of that moment! words cannot paint, nor thought

realise it! With a loud cry, Basil rushed forward to support Mr

Popham, but I bade him stand back, and he at once obeyed. I contrived

to catch poor John as he fell, and laying his head on my left arm tried

my utmost with the other hand to stanch the blood that flowed from the

wound. It was right to try, but I knew all the while it was perfectly

useless. He sighed once or twice, then opened his large blue eyes, and

looked fixedly on me; oh, with such a beautiful soft expression. I am

sure he felt no pain, he seemed perfectly easy in body and mind; it was

a comfort even then, to be sure of this. "It's no use, Mrs

Englefield," he murmured, bringing out each word very slowly; "No use,

thank you; I'm going--best I should go--I should have done no credit to

the house--tell Laurie, with my love--now farewell--God bless you--and

me too--and I think He will." His head dropped on my arm at that last

word, and he added no more; I believe the angels were coming for him

then.

Don't cry, my dear children; perhaps had John lived to grow grey, there

might have been greater and truer cause to weep for him.

I did not speak or move for some time, for life seemed still flickering

about the parted lips. At length the stillness could not be mistaken,

and I laid his head softly on a mossy stone, and closed his eyes; then I

looked round and saw Basil leaning against the rock, watching me with an

expression of sullen misery in his face. My heart smote me, for after

all he had never intended to hurt John, and it had been partly the poor

fellow's reckless way of snatching his weapon that had caused this

calamity; still, I felt too much revolted by the cold-blooded attempt on

the Turk's life, to speak to him with calmness, so we remained aloof and

silent.

A great stir now arose on the hillside, and I saw a large party of the

mountaineers returning from their raid against the Turks with every mark

of triumph. Presently, a number of them turned in our direction. Many

glittering dark eyes rested on our mournful group with curiosity,

wonder, or pity. I felt abashed at first, and was considering how I

could enlist their help in carrying the body to a place of shelter near

Laurie's hut, when I saw the crowd open. To my great joy, an officer in

European dress came forward, exclaiming "Is it possible? you, Mrs

Englefield, here?" then, seeing my bloodstained hands and cloak, he

added, "and hurt, I fear?" and he was at my side in a moment. With

unspeakable comfort, I recognised Captain Blundel, an Englishman, in the

Austrian engineer service, who had dined with us several times at

Cattaro. My husband liked him particularly, and their acquaintance

seemed in the way to become a friendship, when Captain Blundel had been

ordered up the country in order to survey some part of it for a

government map. I soon relieved his mind of the fear that I was

wounded, and told my story in the fewest words possible. Oh, the relief

of having a strong mind to lean upon once more! Not till then did I

know how utterly exhausted I was. Captain Blundel seemed quite at home

with the mountaineers, selected some to carry the body up the hill, sent

a couple to guard the door of Mr Englefield's hut, lest the tidings

should be carried to him hastily, and, lastly, to my great delight, took

measures to procure surgical help for him as quickly as possible.

"That is a blessing I dared not hope for," I exclaimed; "they told me

there was no surgeon to be found in Montenegro."

"And they told you right;" he answered, "but happily at this moment, it

is otherwise. The Prince-bishop, who was brought up, you know, in

Russia, has a clever medical man from Saint Petersburgh on a visit to

him just now; his highness is about to pass this way, on his march from

the Lake of Scutari back to Cetigna; he knows me well, and is besides

too kind-hearted not readily to lend us Dr Goloff's services for a

short time."

We walked slowly up the hill, Captain Blundel and myself keeping near

the party that bore poor John's body. The other mountaineers hurried

forward with such shouts of glee and exultation that I could not help

asking what it all meant. "It means," replied my companion, "that the

gallant fellows have made a successful raid over the Turkish border, and

surprised an underling of the Pasha of Scutari, laden with money and

jewels of his master's and his own. I was surveying near the spot where

he was captured. I never saw a fellow so terrified, and not without

reason, for they would have beheaded him there and then, had he not

declared himself a British subject and no Turk; they carried him to

their Prince, in whose custody he remains."

It flashed at once across my mind that this description agreed, in many

points, with that of Orlando Jones. I determined, without delay, to

hint these suspicions to Captain Blundel, and gave him, in the strictest

confidence, an outline of that villain's history. He listened gravely,

asked several questions much to the point, and ended by begging me to

trust the matter in his hands.

We were now at our journey's end, and I begged for some water, and

hastily washed my bloodstained hands and cloak, lest they should

frighten your uncle. Captain Blundel, meanwhile, saw the body laid in a

sheltered place, and appointed two mountaineers to watch by it. But

Basil, he afterwards told me, now came forward, and insisted on that

duty being left to him; he would take no refusal, and more than once,

when Captain Blundel looked in, he found him on his knees at the head of

the rude bier, praying devoutly. "No people," added Captain Blundel,

"make longer prayers than the Black Mountaineers, nor, I believe, more

devout ones."

I entered alone the hovel where my husband lay; what a place it was!

The floor was unpaved, and positively alive with mice and fleas; the

walls were of stones loosely heaped together, and little bright flecks

of light peeped through the crevices. Wood smoke curled up from the

hearth and so dimmed the air that I could not at once distinguish the

dear object of my search. Two women were there, kind though rough

nurses; one was baking cakes on the hearth for him, the other was

holding to his lips a cup of sour milk. He was propped up against a

pile of blankets, and his features looked wan and sunk. He caught sight

of me at once, and snatched me to his breast with a vehemence so unlike

his calm self that it almost startled me. So did his rapid utterance

and feverish rather unconnected questions, ending with, "Where's John?

isn't he with you?"

"No," I tremblingly answered, neither daring to tell the truth nor to

withhold it from him in his critical state.

"Then, my dear, where is he?" he rejoined quickly.

"He is--he has been called home," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"Very extraordinary," I heard him mutter, as he sank back on his pallet,

"but they were right; John has no head for business; when did he go

home, my dear?"

I could not help bursting into tears at this reiterated inquiry; your

uncle raised himself on his elbow and gazed in my face, and as he did

so, a sudden light seemed to break in upon him. I knew suspense would

be torture, and added, "Yes, dear Laurie, he was called home this

morning; his death was by a pistol-shot, purely accidental,--no pain, no

distress, conscious to the last, and quite satisfied to go; he desired

me to give you his love, Laurie; now you know the truth, and you shall

hear every particular as soon as you are strong enough to bear it."

Your uncle heard these tidings in perfect silence; he was calm, but too

deeply heart-stricken to speak; next to me, I think he loved John better

than any one in the world; often, very often, when I go into his

dressing-room, I find him gazing on the sketch of him in crayons, that

hangs over his chimney-piece. I will show it you when, you come to stay

with us.

It was a sense of thankfulness for my preservation from danger that made

your uncle bear up as he did. When I came to examine his wound I was

shocked at the state it was in. A sword-cut extended from the neck over

the shoulder to the arm, not only unhealed, but to the highest degree

inflamed. No wonder his whole frame was fevered, for the suffering must

have been severe indeed. The kind but rough treatment of his highland

nurses was not calculated to promote a speedy cure; the food they

brought him was not such as a sick man could eat; nor could they

understand his English prejudice in favour of cleanliness. With great

difficulty (he afterwards told me) he had the night of his arrival

obtained a poultice, the application of which had given him such relief

that he had dropped asleep. Presently, however, he was wakened by two

or more rats tugging at it with all their might. He had tried to drive

the intruders away, but was fairly obliged to give in, and fling the

poultice to the farthest corner of the room.

I was bathing the shoulder with warm water when a stranger in the

uniform of a Russian colonel appeared, and introduced himself as Dr

Goloff. He went to business at once, inspected the wound, felt the

pulse, then said there was no chance of his patient's improving until he

was removed from that unwholesome place. The irritative fever which

accompanies such a wound had been much aggravated, he said, by bad air

and improper dressings. He was commissioned, he added, by his friend

Captain Blundel to see Mr Englefield removed at once to Captain

Blundel's tent, which was pitched for surveying purposes near the foot

of this hill. No sooner said than done. A kind of litter was

constructed, and your uncle placed upon it. We were about to set out

when I saw Basil eyeing us from afar, sadly and gloomily. The

remembrance of a shade of injustice towards him came across me

painfully, so I went to him and asked him to be one of Laurie's bearers;

poor Basil! he sprang to execute my bidding with a look of impassioned

gratitude that was most touching. With his powerful help the short

journey was soon accomplished, and the litter safely set down in the

large, watertight, and cheerful tent.

A painful process was needed in order to bring the wound into a right

state for healing, and when it was over, Dr Goloff administered to your

uncle a composing draught, adding, cheerily, "You, monsieur, will do

well to sleep, while I give madame instructions for your future

treatment." He then drew me aside, and after relieving my mind by

giving a favourable opinion of the case added a strong caution against

suffering Laurie's mind to dwell on painful subjects. By so doing, he

said, not only would the patient's recovery be rendered tedious, but his

nerves might be shaken for life. He could see that some anxiety weighed

heavily on his mind; it should at all costs be removed.

"It should indeed, but how?" thought I, with a despairing sigh.

The sorrowful question was about to be answered through the mercy of

that good Providence which helps even the faithless and undeserving. I

was musing dolefully at the tent door when a large party appeared in the

distance, and one of them spurred forward, and came up to me at full

gallop. It was Captain Blundel. He dismounted, and with a beaming face

said--"Good news, Mrs Englefield; I think I have brought your patient a

tonic more effectual than even Dr Goloff could prescribe. When I left

you an hour and a half ago, I went to the Prince-Bishop, and imparted to

him our suspicions as to the true name and history of his prisoner,

begging his permission to sift the matter. With his usual gentlemanlike

feeling he at once granted it. I then hastened to the hut where the

prisoner lay guarded by unfriendly Montenegrins. Without preamble, I

said, `I have the honour of speaking to Mr Orlando Jones, I believe?'

`Who told you my name, sir?' he exclaimed, starting to his feet in great

alarm: then, perceiving the mistake he had made in thus proving his own

identity, he tried to retract, but stammered and broke down. I

proceeded quietly to demand the restoration of the papers and jewels,

fraudulently carried off by him from Mr Popham's office at Ragusa. He

tried to shuffle off the charge. `Very well,' said I, `do as you

please, but mark me, I am empowered by his highness to say that only by

full restitution can you hope for a continuance of his protection; if

that is withdrawn, your life is scarcely worth a pin's purchase.' The

poor wretch turned pale and shook in every joint. Feeling, doubtless,

the truth of this last remark he surrendered at discretion, entreating

me to stand his friend, and confessing the whole extent of his frauds.

His property, he said, was all in the hands of his captors, but it was

possible they might not have discovered the jewels as they were

cunningly secreted within his saddle. To be brief, I got the Vladika's

leave to examine the saddle, and found within it this packet, which I

have every reason to believe is the object of your husband's search."

Tremblingly I carried the precious packet to your dear uncle. Never

shall I forget his look of relief on opening it, and finding the lost

jewels safe. Some important papers were also there--everything, in

fact, that was missing; for the most valuable documents of all, Laurie

had had the precaution to transfer to his office at Cattaro when his

suspicions of Jones had ripened into certainty.

After warmly thanking Captain Blundel for his invaluable help, your

uncle said, "Let me ask of you, my dear friend, two more proofs of

kindness. In the first place, will you undertake the safe transport of

this precious packet to Cattaro, whither you say you are shortly to

return; in the next, will you convey the expressions of my sincere

gratitude to the Prince-Bishop in the fittest terms?"

"Your first request is easily granted," replied Captain Blundel; "your

last it would be superfluous in me to undertake, as the Vladika has

expressed his intention of inquiring after you in person, and here he

comes."

I turned and saw Basil, holding up the tent curtain while his highness

entered. The prince did indeed appear a Saul amongst his people.

Taller than the tallest Black Highlander from the shoulders upwards, his

figure was finely modelled, his movements were free and active, his eyes

dark and brilliant. Nothing about him except his long beard, which was

black and glossy, reminded one of his sacred office; he wore a scarlet

pelisse, fur cap, blue wide trousers, and in his belt a pair of plain

pistols. He advanced towards Laurie's bed, replying with peculiar grace

to my silent courtesy, then in a voice of almost languid gentleness

inquiring of me after my husband's wound. He spoke in French. I took

courage to reply in the same language, offering our heartfelt thanks for

his intervention in our favour, and for Dr Goloff's timely aid. Laurie

raised himself on one arm and joined in these acknowledgments, but the

Vladika kindly bade him lie down. He remained but a few minutes with

us, being in haste to resume his journey, and at his departure he

frankly and cordially invited us to return his visit at Cetigna. Basil

attended him back to his charger, then returned full of pride and

delight to congratulate us on this honour.

We saw the kind and noble Prince-Prelate no more, as a Turkish invasion

of his northern frontier hurried him away from his little capital before

Laurie was well enough to be moved there. We remained ten days under

Captain Blundel's canvas roof, he most kindly undertaking to superintend

the removal of poor John's body to Cattaro, and its respectful interment

there. Meanwhile Basil was my unwearied helper in the task of nursing

Laurie--a happy task, as the beloved invalid gained strength each day.

The faithful fellow escorted us to cetigna, then flow back to his

prince's side for some weeks, but managed to return to Cetigna in time

to be our guide to Cattaro. How thankful I felt when I saw your dear

uncle once more installed in his home! and to complete my satisfaction,

his dear and early friend, Francis Popham, joined us there almost

immediately, having left England on receiving from Captain Blundel the

mournful tidings of his brother's death. Under his able management,

affairs were soon restored to perfect order. I scarcely need to tell

_you_ how it has pleased Heaven to prosper your uncle's and his joint

exertions since that time, and how a few months ago your uncle became a

partner in that house and we returned to live in dear old England.

Basil and Spira are still alive. "Little Nilo" is grown a noble-looking

youth as gallant as his father, and far better taught, having received a

good education in one of the excellent schools founded by our friend

Bishop Danilo.

Thus ends our adventure on the Black Mountain; so now to bed, all of

you, and I wish you a good night and happy dreams.