'Kars fell! Its garrison was captured, but Ali escaped the Cossacks

of Mouravieff, and hastened home to find Saïda, not as of old, at her

chamber window to answer the tinkling of his lute at night, when the

quiet stars looked down on the blue Bosphorus, and the thousand

lights of Stamboul were shining on its waters; but to seek her green

grave among the silent ones at Pera, and he was almost beside himself

with grief. Three days he remained on his knees at her

resting-place, until he had read over all the hundred and fourteen

chapters of the Koran, and covered the grass with flowers. Then he

placed above her a gilded tomb, on which he wrote in charming verses

the whole history of their hopeless love; and this tomb cost the poor

lieutenant nine hundred piastres. Beside that tomb he swore a

dreadful vow to slay both Ali Pasha and her father.

'While this rash vow was trembling on his lips, that father of

cruelty and avarice, the old merchant, tottering on his staff, and

with tears rolling down his white beard, appeared under the tall and

sombre cypresses of the cemetery; and then the frantic Ali,

transported with rage, sprang up from amid the flowers of Saïda's

grave, and drawing a pistol from his girdle, shot him dead!

'From that moment Ali became a maniac, and the sultan sent him here.

Allah has dried up his brains; but He is ever merciful and just; so

whether my poor comrade shall recover, and be as he was in other

times, a merry companion, a true friend, and gallant soldier, I know

not; our kismet is in the hands of God and the Prophet, whose holy

finger traced it, at the moment of our birth, upon our infant

brows.'[*]

[*] Ali _did_ recover, and is now a _cole agassi_ (major) of the

Turkish artillery at Hunkiar Skellessi: but being, as Jack Belton

says, in full possession of his senses, vows he will never think of

marriage more.

'A mournful story, Achmet Effendi,' said I, gazing with deep interest

on the hollow cheek, lack-lustre eyes, and wasted form of this brave

young officer, who had seen as much service, and fought with the

gallant Williams at Kars; 'but, if I may inquire, what brought _you_

here?'

'Love, also,' he answered, with a smile, and then a frown of anger on

his olive brow. 'A few words will tell you all. My father is the

Bashi-katib or military secretary of the Egyptian Contingent. The

orta or battalion to which I belonged, and still belong--'

'Still belong?' I reiterated, glancing at his fetters,

'Yes,' said he, colouring, 'you shall hear.'

'I was in cantonments at Pera, when I became acquainted with a lady

who was wont to walk, unattended either by slaves or

carpet-spreaders, in the great cemetery there--'

'Ah!' said I, with mournful interest.

'Her figure was graceful; her brow like alabaster; her eyes--strange

in our sunny land--were a deep and bewitching blue, for her mother

had been a Russian lady, stolen from the shores of the sea of Azof.

Her eye-brows were brown, and arched, like the moon of the Prophet,

and never did the divine Hafiz of Iraun pen a sonnet on a face more

beautiful than hers; and as Jammee the Iraunee sings in his ode, I

was miserable when absent from her.

'Oh! in what place soe'er I stray,

By midnight, morning, or by day,

Thou art the inmate of my breast;

I cannot linger, cannot stay,

But thy sweet image with me aye

Abides my bosom's dearest guest!'

Yet she was _another's_, and by one of the contrarieties of our

nature for that reason, more perhaps than for her loveliness, did I

love her! she was--'

'A wife?'

'No.'

'What then?'

'A slave.'

'Well?' said I, thinking it was only a distinction without a

difference among 'the Faithful.'

'Her master was in the service of the Kislar Aga, so you will

perceive at once that she was a dangerous person to meddle with. The

arrival of the allied troops in the Bosphorus had attracted the

attention of all in Stamboul, so Pera was almost deserted. Zarifa,

by a prettily-arranged bouquet of flowers, asked me to visit her, and

I did so, taking care, however, to arm me well. I had my sabre and a

pair of pistols, which I loaded carefully, in case of being surprised

by the Kislar Aga or any of the black guardians of the Royal

Seraglio. I had with me a fleet horse, one of those

carefully-trained barbs which are used by our Turkish cavalry, and

are drilled to close to the right and close to the left; to dress

back, or forward, at a single word of command; to remain beside the

rider if he falls, or to drag him out of the press by their teeth.

Leaving my horse concealed in an olive-thicket, without perceiving

that I was watched and followed by a Moolah, named Moustapha, who had

been a corporal in my regiment, I entered the garden of the Kislar

Aga's country-house, and there Zarifa received me in a

beautifully-gilded kiosk, covered with tendrils of the myrtle, the

passion-flower, the gorgeous azalea, and the Damascus rose. There

soft carpets were spread; hot coffee, sherbet, wine, and a chibouque

awaited me--and more than all, Zarifa, in all her beauty, with her

yashmack thrown aside!

'Reclining on that soft carpet, with my arm around the yielding waist

of my love--a pipe on one hand, a cup of Greek wine on the other, I

was in the seventh heaven!

'The roses were sparkling in the new-fallen rain, which had just

refreshed the earth with a shower, and the sun was exhaling it, as he

came up in his splendour; the breeze was laden with the melody of the

joyous birds, and the large drops hung like diamonds on every flower

and tree, while the perfume of the orange-groves, of the violet-beds,

and of the china jars of heliotrope, loaded the air with delicious

fragrance; everything spoke to my heart of love, delight, and

silence, as I pressed my lips to those of Zarifa!

'At that moment the gleam of three or four bayonets appeared above

the garden wall; the door of the kiosk was dashed in; I sprang to my

feet, with a hand on my sabre, to be confronted by the scowling

Moolah, who, I found, to my rage, had surrounded me by a guard from

the nearest police-station. In short, the ruffians of the Bostandgi

Bashi were upon me!

'Zarifa uttered a shriek, as I rushed from her, to find my horse

captured, and bayonets opposed to me, breast-high. I was obliged to

surrender at discretion, and on being deprived of my arms, was thrust

into an araba, and, with the terrified and weeping girl, was taken

before a corrupt and cunning kadi.

'"Remember," said I, "that I am the son of tho Bashi-katib, and the

grandson of the Seraskier."'

'"You are wise to boast of your ancestry since you cannot boast of

yourself," sneered the Moolah.

'"Did not the Prophet cast eyes of evil on Zeinab, the wife of Zeid,

his adopted son, from whom he cajoled her away and then married her;

and Zeinab, thereafter, vaunted that she was above all the other

wives of Mohammed, since their marriage was made in heaven?"

'"Peace, blasphemous kite!" exclaimed the kadi.

'He then asked me, according to our law, when a man is discovered in

the society of an unmarried woman, if I would wed Zarifa?

'But I remained silent.

'Zarifa was beautiful, and I loved her--true; but to marry the slave

of a servant of the Kislar Aga, the Chief Eunuch to that son of a

slave, the Sultan; I--a Mulazim--on one hundred and twenty piastres

per month. Wallah! the thing was not to be thought of! I refused,

and was sentenced to pass two years in chains. Zarifa was given to a

deserving chaoush of cavalry as a wife, and I was sent here as a

prisoner, and as such must remain a few months longer."

'And you were sentenced to pass two years in chains?'

'Two years, Effendi.'

'Heavens,' thought I, 'should such be my sentence, what will become

of Callum Dhu, and what will be the fate of my commission, which I

value as my own life!'

CHAPTER LI.

DREAMS AND LONGINGS.

'If I were cast into a deep pit,' saith the quaint Hobbes, 'and the

devil put down his cloven-foot, I would take hold thereof, to be

drawn out by it.'

This is an apt, but somewhat fallacious application of the mode of

working ascribed, with what truth I say not, to the Jesuits, viz.,

that we may do evil if good should come of it; and of the system

upheld by the philosopher of Malmesbury, 'that it is lawful to make

use of an ill instrument to do ourselves good.'

Callum and I, though sunk in dejection, dispirited, and exasperated,

and feeling ourselves fitted to attempt or encounter anything

desperate to achieve our liberty, had scarcely reached the climax

referred to by the learned Hobbes. I thought of bribery; but my

foster-brother, though poor as a cadger, was proud as a king, and

with some scorn rejected my proposal to tamper with our not

over-scrupulous Turkish guards and turnkeys.

These officials (as Achmet Effendi informed me), by the connivance of

the governor and his subalterns, could favour or permit the escape of

the worst malefactor committed to their care, if there were friends

without, who were ready to pay down the requisite number of piastres,

on receipt of which their names would at once be struck off the books

of the Bagnio as dead.

'Suppose cholera should break out here?' said I, one day, when almost

suffocated by the overpowering malaria of the prison.

'In the name of mercy do not think of it!' replied the Turkish

lieutenant; 'I have seen that dreadful pest more than once within

these walls, and all the Koran says of hell cannot equal the horrors

of the scene. The dead, collapsed, pale, and frightful, have lain

among us in their chains for days, until the governor, by offers of

liberty, bribed some of the prisoners, and by threats of death forced

others, to convey them from this vault, into which the vilest of his

slaves refused to enter.'

These brief conversations increased my desire to leave the place. My

horror of it; my anger at being detained; my anxiety for the issue,

and for the construction which the regiment might put upon my

unaccountable disappearance, with a thousand other exciting

reflections, rendered me at times only fit company for a maniac.

Often my spirit sank to the lowest ebb; and, crouched at the foot of

a pillar, with my head resting on kind Callum's brawny shoulder, I

have slept, or striven to sleep, through the long and dreary hours of

a monotonous night, after the equally long and dreary hours of a

horrible day. And even these snatches of uneasy slumber were filled

by countless dreams, visions, and thoughts of incidents long past,

and places, faces, and voices far, far away.

Amid all this misery I thought much of Iola, who was now where her

errors would be more lightly judged than by the sons of men.

Strange it was that when I dreamt of her--her death, that scene of

horror, seemed all _a dream_, that had passed away with night and

sleep. She was again alive and beside me, as of old, with her soft

angelic smile! Again her lips were warm and breathing; and her

breath came hot and fragrant, as her white bosom palpitated against

mine. Dear Iola! Then the atmosphere seemed dense and full of

languor; again I was trembling, dazzled, and confused with delight,

as she lay within my arms in all her Oriental beauty, waking in my

heart a thousand thoughts and aspirations hitherto unknown to me.

Then her face would fade like the dissolving views of a

magic-lantern; melting half away, it changed and brightened into

another that resembled Laura Everingham; then I would start with a

convulsive shudder and awake, to find around me the grizzly,

unshaven, and dreadful visages of my Asiatic and Turkish companions,

with all the horrors of that earthly hell, the Mohammedan Bagnio.

Many a time the scenery of my native land came before me. Again, in

fancy, I trod the purple heath, and heard the roar of the Uisc-dhu,

as it thundered over its steep precipice into the black linn below;

again I saw my mother's grave, and the old jointure-house shining in

the sunlight; the lofty scalp of Ben Ora capped with the snows of the

past winter, and its sides clothed with bronze-like thickets of larch

and pine; again I saw the azure loch on which the wild swans floated,

bordered by its groves of silver birch, of wavy ash, and the rowan

with its scarlet berries; and out of that deep, dark, and

pestilential vault, the desolate glen of the Ora passed thus before

me like a panorama, with all its moss-grown hearths and roofless

homes; the waving woods, the rocks, and mountains, shining under a

glorious sun.

On waking from dreams like these my spirit sank lower, but sturdy

Callum never quailed, for he cuffed and kicked the Turkish prisoners,

and sang 'The Brown-eyed Maid,' or whistled endless and interminable

pibrochs, as he said, 'just to relieve his mind and let off the steam

a little.'

Anon I was with the regiment again--'roughing it,' among rough and

gallant spirits, who hovered round me in all the glittering

appurtenances of Highland chivalry. I heard the comic song, the

glee, the laughter of the mess; or I was again at sea on board the

_Vestal_, passing over the waste of water like a floating spirit, and

gliding along the dim and distant coasts of France and Spain--that

seemed pale and blue by sunny day, and dark by starry night--or lit

only by the solitary light-houses that burned like ocean-stars upon

the horizon's tremulous verge; on--on--on the wings of steam,

swiftly, silently, and mysteriously.

Iola still!

It would come before me again and again, that face of tender beauty

and reproachful sadness. Her eyes were ever on me, by night, when

all was darkness and profundity; and in the day-time, when the misty

flakes of sunshine fell through the prison-bars, in waking or in

sleeping, they were ever gazing on me--those dark and sad, but sweet

imploring eyes.

Eve fell even in Paradise--why not Iola?

With such thoughts for my companions, how heavy was my sorrow, how

dull and monotonous my captivity!

At last, even Callum, who could boldly face all those disagreeables

which usually rise like dust along the roadway of life, began to sink

under the weariness of our existence in this hideous place; and once,

to my surprise, I discovered tears hovering in his eyes.

'Co-dhalta,' said I, kindly, placing a hand on his shoulder; 'what

are you thinking of?'

'I am thinking, Mac Innon, of that green place where God gives rest

to the weary--the old kirkyard at home, where your mother and mine,

too, are sleeping under the shadow of the old stone cross; and I was

pondering on----'

'What?'

'_Our_ chances of ever being laid beside them.'

'Let us rather think of escape.'

'To work, then,' said Callum, briskly; 'let us not continue to waste

what little Father Raoul was wont to term the poor man's best

inheritance?'

'What may that be, Callum?'

'_Time_,' was the pithy reply.

This brief conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two more

prisoners, who were immediately greeted by the usual appalling chorus

of yells, cries, curses, and laughter, together with that clattering

accompaniment of chains, bolts and fetters, which had so strangely

startled Callum and me on our first entrance to this Cimmerian and

infernal abode.

CHAPTER LII.

THE GALIONDOI.

Escorted by a party of Turkish police, or personages armed with

similar authority, and accoutred with yataghan and pistols, of

course, for these are as indispensable to an Osmanli as his nose and

eyes, our new companions who entered were two hideous and ferocious

Asiatic Turks, with receding foreheads, sharp temples, ana shaggy

eyebrows--black and sinister eyes--hooked noses and long moustaches,

having a savage curl, round almost to their ears. While they were

being secured by the legs to the wall, a gleam of sunlight from one

of the grated slits fell upon them, and I recognised Zahroun and

another of the Turks who had assisted the Moolah Moustapha in

committing Iola to her dreadful tomb amid the waters.

I stepped towards them, with a dark frown on my face and a twitching

in my hands, as if I could have sprung upon their throats; and Callum

followed me close, with a gleam in his dark eye that betokened

mischief.

Zahroun recognised us, and pointed his dirty brown fingers at me with

mockery, while his companion gave us but a scowl and a sullen stare.

'Chaoush,' said I, to the sergeant of the guard, 'of what have these

men been guilty?'

'Murder and piracy,' replied the soldier, briefly, as he drew a key

from the fetter-lock of Zahroun.

'Murder!--where?--near Rodosdchig?'

'No--for murdering a Frankish officer off the coast of Natolia a

night or two ago, in a solitary caique; but they are safe enough till

the ferashes of the Bostandgi Bashi lead them out to take their last

view of the setting sun.'

Yells, hoots, and groans, whistling and laughter, greeted the chaoush

as he retired, and I turned away with aversion from the two wretched

assassins who had been added to the number already round us. But

their arrival excited a little curiosity in this strange community,

and by those who were chained on each side of them, and opposite,

they were loudly and vociferously pressed to relate the story of

their crime and the cause of their incarceration there.

It was briefly told, for the Turk is neither verbose nor

circumlocutory.

They, and a few others, all well armed in a fleet caique, were

hovering about the coast of Natolia, on the look-out for any smaller

craft they might be able to overpower or pick up, when they

discovered, in a creek of the opposite Isle of Marmora, an English

pleasure-yacht ashore, wedged upon the sand, and left almost dry, as

her crew, without the assistance of a large steamer, were totally

unable to get her off. Barek Allah! here was a prize! A well-found,

taut-rigged, sharp-prowed, and strong English yacht, of some three

hundred tons, pierced for twelve eight-pounder carronades, and

handsomely fitted up.

In those disorderly times, when the shores of Asia Minor were

swarming with lawless bands, and Greece was vibrating with incipient

insurrection, what havoc could be made in the Archipelago with such a

craft as this English yacht! But then her owner was a sturdy, burly

old infidel, who, since she had gone ashore, had stuck a huge cutlass

and four pistols in his girdle. He had a well-picked crew of forty

men, all well armed, and who loved fighting better than idleness, for

these Ingleez galiondgis were the very devil! He had on board, also,

a British officer from Sebastopol, and two Ingleez ladies, beautiful

as the houris of Paradise, moon-faced and cushion-hipped (and here

the hideous Asiatic rolled his black goggle eyes, and licked his

blubber lips), and so the yacht with her twelve brass guns, plunder,

et cetera, was deemed well worth venturing one's hide under pewter

and steel for.

While Zahroun and his companion Abdul Basig watched her in a little

caique, pretending to fish by day and to sleep in an adjoining creek

by night; others, their comrades in many a crime, were scouring all

the sea-port towns about Rodosdchig and the Natolian coast, to muster

enough of lads on whom, by old experience, they could depend--choice

and sturdy sons of the handjiar and pistol, to assist in surprising

the grounded yacht some cloudy night when the moon was below the

horizon, and no help was nigh; for with enough of hands she could

easily be boarded in the dark--the throats of the Ingleez cut from

clew to earring, and then the whole craft, with all her plunder,

provisions, women, wine, plate, and everything, would belong to the

captors. Inshallah! was it not a notable speculation?

'One evening,' continued this exulting ruffian, 'Abdul and I were

hovering near the creek in our caique, looking at the stranded yacht,

and admiring her beautiful mould, and clean run under the counter, as

she lay with a heel over to her port side, when suddenly, while we

were speaking, her colours were run up to the foremast-head to gain

our attention, and a giaour on deck waved his hat to us. Then we

pulled alongside, but cautiously and slowly.

'The Effendi to whom she belonged had grown weary of lying in a few

feet of water among the woods of that secluded creek, and impatiently

proposed that, for so many piastres, we should convey the bearer of a

message towards the mouth of the Dardanelles, where he would be sure

of falling in with one of the many British cruisers, whose captain

would at once lend him all the assistance necessary, on merely

mentioning his name; for this stout old infidel in the square-tailed

coat, white trousers, and straw hat, evidently deemed himself a great

man in his own country; and so perhaps he may be, for Abdul tells me

that it is an island of white chalk, where the sun never shines, and

whose shores are surrounded by a thousand leagues of mud; and that

its mountains are peopled by Arnaouts, who wear a striped camise

round their middle like yonder giaour (pointing to Callum Dhu), and

that they have tails--Allah Ackbar!--of which, however, they are

deprived by the Moolahs at their birth.

'Be that as it may, we agreed with the Frankish Effendi to take his

messenger to a castle of the Dardanelles, and for three hundred

piastres, which were at once paid over the capstan-head, to set off

that very night. Before he left the yacht, his messenger, a handsome

Ingleez captain--a Yuze Bashi in the Guards, and bearded like a

Janissary, or like all those infidels who come from the war, kissed

the unbelieving women before descending to our boat--kissed them

before us all, without their yashmacks; and then we put off, set our

sail, shipped the sweeps, and pulled away to sea.

'The night was beautiful, and muffled in a coat which had a hooded

cape like that of a Bashi Bozook, the Ingleez captain lolled in the

stern-sheets of the caique, smoking cigars, speaking, as all these

Ingleez do, about the weather, and looking upward at the stars, or

back to the Isle of Marmora, where he had left his two wives, for

such I took the women to be; but now the Isle was diminished to a dim

blue speck upon the waters, and we could no longer see the creek

where the yacht lay.

'He had a fine ring on the fourth finger of his left hand; it flashed

as he gave us each a few cigars, and lit a fresh one for himself. He

had a noble gold watch (all these infidels have such), and he looked

at it from time to time, as he hummed a song, and after telling us to

"pull like devils, as we should be well paid," fell fast asleep, for

he feared nothing.

'Abdul and I continued to pull, but less vigorously than before. We

looked slyly at each other, and thought of the watch and the ring.

The sea was very quiet and smooth; there was not a ripple on it, and

no eye beheld us, but the winking stars. The infidel-dog slept

soundly, and he was smiling in his sleep, as he dreamt perhaps of his

two Ingleez wives, or his island of mud and fog, for we could see his

white teeth shining under his dark moustache in the starlight. We

were some miles off Cape Karaburun, for we could see its lighthouse

glimmering on our lee. Everything was quiet and lonely as it may

well be upon the midnight ocean. We exchanged another glance, and in

a moment more, the throat of the infidel was gaping with a red slash

of my handjiar, which nearly cut his head off!

'Abdul Rasig made a snatch at the gold watch, and just as we tossed

him overboard, I tore off the diamond ring with my teeth, and, Allah

Kebir! a mouthful of his unclean flesh came off with it; but here it

is--the ring, not the flesh!'

In the excitement of his narrative the wretch forgot himself so much

as to exhibit the ring. It was a chaste little jewel--a pure

diamond, set round with pearls; and on beholding it, I started back

as if a thunderbolt had burst at my ear.

That identical ring I had seen a hundred times on the finger of Laura

Everingham; and I had last observed it, to my pique and grief, on the

hand of her lover--her husband Clavering--when he dined at our mess

in the Castle of Dumbarton!

Astonishment and horror chained all my faculties, and meanwhile the

exulting Zahroun continued his revolting narrative.

'We flung him over, and he sunk like a stone; then we put the helm

up, and bore away for the river Ustuola, our point of rendezvous on

the coast of Natolia--a lonely place, where all our armed caiques

were to meet for attacking and taking the yacht. But a storm came

on; wallah! a storm of wind and lightning, a flash of which shaved my

left whisker clean off, as you may see; we were driven up the Sea of

Marmora, and after losing both sweeps and sail, were drifting at the

mercy of the wind and tide, when an armed boat of the Bostandgi

Bashi--may dogs defile his beard!--overhauled us, just when we were

quarrelling and mauling each other about the respective merits of the

watch and ring, for Abdul Rasig was wrathful at the splendour of my

diamond, vowing, that for every para the watch was worth I had got a

piastre, and a para being worth only the thirtieth part of a piastre,

four of which now go to make a shilling Ingleez, we loudly accused

each other of murder and robbery, like the fathers of fools.

'The Kadi before whom we were brought carefully wound up the watch,

applied it to his ear, and as it ticked to his satisfaction, he

solved the matter by depositing it in his judicial pocket. He would

also have quieted me, by slipping my ring on his finger, but I placed

it in my mouth, and swore, by every hair in the boards of the two

hundred and twenty-seven thousand prophets of Islam, that I had

swallowed it; then we were marched off to the Bagnio, and so are

here.'

'Ay, here we are, a thousand burning curses on your folly!' growled

Abdul; 'for the four caiques will leave the mouth of the Ustuola on

the fourth night from this; the yacht will be boarded and taken, and

neither of us will be there to share the plunder or the pleasure; and

wallah! I had set my whole soul on having one of those white-skinned

Ingleez women!'

CHAPTER LIII.

A ROW IN THE BAGNIO.

It is impossible for me to analyze my thoughts or reflections, on

hearing this terrible relation of Clavering's lonely and helpless

butchery in his sleep, by the hands of villains such as these Turkish

galiondgis.

Poor Tom Clavering! his well-whiskered face and manly figure came

vividly before me, as I had last seen them in Dumbarton Castle, when

he seemed the jolliest of our merry mess; and when full of joy at his

approaching marriage, and all thoughtless that I was his rival, he

spoke to me of his love for Laura; of her beauty, and that which was

better than beauty, her worth; and when, in the fulness of his heart,

he generously placed his purse at my service with all the frankness

of a soldier and of an English gentleman.

But he was gone, and Laura was a widow now.

A widow at two-and-twenty, or thereabout!

Here was food for thoughts of hope and ardour, for now she would be

free to choose another; and though the pale image of Iola still

hovered painfully and oppressively before me at times, I felt that I

loved Laura still. Then came the crushing and startling thought of

the dangers which menaced her, and the words of the villain Abdul

were yet tingling in my ears.

'_The caiques will leave the Ustuola on the fourth night from this,

and the yacht will be boarded and taken!_'

Taken by those Greek pirates and Turkish outlaws whose savage

barbarity have long made terrible the shores and isles of the Ægean

sea!

So Laura was with me in this land so distant from our home; she was

within a few miles of me, and a great longing seized my soul--a

longing to look once more upon her face--to hear her voice again; the

voice that in other times had thrilled through my inmost heart, which

now began to 'ache with the thought of all that might have been;' but

it stood still, forgetting almost to beat, while my blood ran cold at

the reflection that I was a prisoner, and totally incapable of

assisting, warning, or protecting her or her friends.

All my soul seemed now to be with that stranded yacht on the Isle of

Marmora, which was more than forty miles distant, as a bird would fly.

Oh, to be free! my longing and my horror were fast becoming

insupportable.

How often had the same unavailing exclamation left my lips, as with

clenched hands, and teeth that gnawed my nether lip, I trod to and

fro in wretchedness, despondency, and bitterness of heart, in the

narrow passage or aisle formed by the double line of captives chained

on each side of the Bagnio.

I had long since discovered the futility of attempting to soften,

bribe, or terrify the chaoush who commanded the guard, for he feared

us, as prisoners of the Moolah Moustapha; thus the rascal seemed

incorruptible.

The story of Clavering's fate, and the adventure of the diamond-ring,

haunted me as much as the doom that overhung the yacht of Sir Horace

and her crew. Could I rest while, almost within arm's length of me,

there was this jewel which had been on the white hand of a pure and

innocent English girl like Laura Everingham (and which, moreover, had

been her gift to a brave and honest hearted fellow like Clavering)

remaining in possession of a vile and polluted assassin like Zahroun?

Twenty times I stepped towards him, with the intention of clutching

his throat, though he seemed to possess thrice my strength; and I as

often drew back on reflecting that, in case of a brawl, I might be

torn to pieces by the prisoners if I came within arm's length of

them, or perhaps I might be shot by the guards from without, as

Achmet Effendi informed me that, on scuffles ensuing, they frequently

fired through the gratings, without the least remorse or ceremony;

and he added, that if we escaped a round of ball-cartridge we would

assuredly be chained, like the rest, to the walls.

To Callum Dhu I translated the horrible story of Zahroun, and the

honest heart of my foster-brother was fired with rage and sorrow when

he heard the fate of Captain Clavering. The frank and manly bearing

of the English Guardsman, with his love of old Highland sports, had

made a most favourable impression on the mind of my follower, whose

heart was apt to become somewhat encrusted by jealousy and prejudice

on the approach of strangers; and now, whispering fiercely in my ear,

he swore by the stones of Iona to tear the head off the shoulders of

Zahroun.

The sunset had faded away; the eight reflections of the eight narrow

slits which, from a shady verandah, admitted light into our vault,

had disappeared from the stained and dirty walls; the place was so

dark that we could not see each other's faces, as on this night the

chaoush of the Turkish guard had omitted to light the lantern which

usually swung from a pillar of our den; or perhaps the quartermaster

of the castle had no oil in store; but what ever the reason may have

been, we were left quite in the dark when I finished my translation

of the story, and then Callum Dhu, filled by a sudden tempest of

Highland fury, and regardless of all consequences, sprang upon

Zahroun, and seizing him by the throat, endeavoured to hurl him

beneath his feet; but the bare-legged and bare-armed galiondgi was

brawny, muscular, and strong as himself, so the struggle that ensued

between these two athletes was alike fierce and terrible! Their

hard, constrained breathing; their half-suffocated exclamations,

threats, and execrations in hoarse Gaelic on one hand, and guttural

Turkish on the other, were drowned amid the noise made by the

prisoners, who began their usual infernal chorus of shrieks, yells,

oaths, and laughter, with loud and impetuous inquiries on all hands

as to what was the matter, while the general row was increased by the

swinging and dashing of chains.

'Callum! Callum!' I exclaimed, 'here are lights--the Turkish guards

may fire upon us.'

'Let them blaze away!' was the answer of Callum, who, wholly intent

on battling with his ferocious antagonist (whom he had now beaten to

the ground, and on whose brawny chest he had planted his kilted

knees), heeded me not, for his Celtic blood was fairly up, and his

mouth, moreover, was full of it, as Zahroun, with one of his iron

fetters, had given him a blow on the jaws. While they continued to

fight thus, like two wild panthers, writhing, twisting, and

struggling, sundry pleasant adjectives in their different languages

were resorted to.

'Dioul!' was freely invoked on one side, and all the genii of hell,

with the beards of the twelve imaums, and the same reverend

appendages of the two hundred and twenty-seven thousand prophets of

Islam wore summoned in vain on the other, while the storm of swinging

chains and clamorous voices rang in the arched vault like the

bellowing of a stormy sea.

A red light flashed fitfully through one of the iron gratings, and

the swarthy visage, heavy moustache, and scarlet fez of the Turkish

sergeant appeared, as he held up a flaring torch and gazed in, with

something of wonder and alarm in his dark and dilating Asiatic eyes.

The iron door was hastily opened, and several soldiers, clad in short

blue jackets, and tight red trousers, ran down the steps, and

preceded by the chaoush with the torch, began to lay about them on

all sides with bamboo rods, caning all without discrimination.

As the sergeant rushed forward, a prisoner, in sheer mischief, put

out a foot and tripped him up. With a malediction the

non-commissioned officer fell flat on his face, with the burning link

almost in his mouth, by which--Barek Allah!--his sacred moustaches

were scorched off in a moment; and as the light went out, two or

three of his comrades fell over him in the dark, increasing the

confusion. A hand now grasped mine with fierce energy. It was

Callum's.

'Now,' said he, 'now or never! follow me!'

And he dragged me up the steps and through the open door, which we

could easily distinguish by a faint light beyond it. As we issued

into the yard before the Turkish guard-house, Callum, with admirable

presence of mind, closed the barrier of the vault, turned the key,

and by an additional wrench broke it in the lock, leaving the chaoush

and his soldiers to fight or fraternise with the prisoners, as they

pleased.

'Let us be but through the outer barrier, and we are free!' said I.

The night was starry but dark, for the moon had not yet risen, and an

increasing wind rolled the waves of the Propontis on the rocky beach.

There was no time for calm deliberation; no leasure to undo an error,

for we had nothing to guide our decision but the quickness of

instinct and the rapidity of desperation. Our lives would be lost or

won in less than five minutes--a dreadful reflection to me, even now,

when all the danger is over and I sit in my quiet quarters writing of

what is all happily past.

The gate was closed and secured by a transverse wooden bar. Muffled

in his blue greatcoat, the Turkish sentinel stood near it, with his

musket on his shoulder, and the long bushy tassel of his scarlet cap

drooping down his back. I could mark his sharp Asiatic features

defined against the sky. He stood still and motionless as a bronze

statue, with his lacklustre eyes fixed on the stars, and absorbed

apparently in one of those waking dreams peculiar to those Osmanlies

who spend their spare paras in opium and raki.

'Mac Innon,' whispered Callum, 'to you I leave the undoing of the

gate; give me the sentinel to manage--'

'You will not kill him?' said I, hurriedly, seeing that there was a

wild gleam in Callum's eyes, and that he had, between his teeth, a

skene-dhu, which, by being concealed in his hose, had hitherto

escaped the search of our captors.

'Kill him? not if I can help it; but I would rather be shot here,

sir, than go back to that infernal prison. Dioul! do you hear how

the old chaoush is bellowing at the door?'

Roused by the unusual noise, the dreamy sentinel turned his head half

round to listen, and at that moment Callum sprang upon him, and

grasped his throat with a clutch into which he threw all the muscular

strength of his sinewy arms and fingers. The swarthy visage of the

poor Turk became distorted; his eyes almost started from their

sockets, and the musket fell from his shoulder. I snatched up the

weapon, and (while Callum hurled the soldier to the ground)

endeavoured to throw off its iron hooks a solid cross bar that

secured the wicket in the gate, which was composed of strong vertical

palisades.

This bar was secured in its place by a chain and large brass padlock,

the key of which was probably at the belt of the chaoush, whose

outcries we dreaded would momently rouse the rest of his comrades in

the little fortress.

Heavens, what a chaos were then my thoughts! All seemed a dream, and

we did everything as if in a dream; yet all we did was wisely and

correctly done. I unfixed the bayonet from the musket; inserted its

triangular blade into the loop of the padlock; grasped the socket

with my right hand, the point with my left, and using the weapon as a

lever, wrenched it fiercely round, and burst the impediment. Thus

the chain which secured the bar was loosened; the wicket stood open,

and the sentinel lay breathless on the ground.

'I hope the poor fellow will soon recover--he was only doing his

duty,' said I.

'He'll be able to bawl for help in three minutes; Dioul! if he does,

I'll go back with my skene and gralloch him like a dead deer; see he

is stirring already!' said Callum, as we leaped through the gate; and

intent only on placing the greatest possible distance between

ourselves and the Bagnio of Selyvria, hastened along the sea-shore,

avoiding the high road which traverses the rugged coast, and which we

naturally supposed would be the first line of search and of pursuit.

CHAPTER LIV.

FLIGHT.

The shore was sandy, broken here and there by masses of black rocks,

and fringed by groves and thickets, which afforded every means of

concealment, if we were pursued. Moreover, many little caiques and

fishing-craft were moored in the creeks and inlets for nearly three

miles beyond Selyvria: thus we had every means of escape to seaward,

if closely pressed by the soldiers from the castle. I had still the

sentinel's loaded musket; but was resolved to toss it into some pool

of water or olive-thicket when day dawned, lest the circumstance of

having it in my possession might excite remark or suspicion; and we

intended to pass ourselves off to the Osmanlies as shipwrecked

British prisoners, escaped from a Greek pirate--a story probable

enough, if told at a moderate distance from Selyvria.

A hundred times we paused anxiously to listen, assured that we heard

the noise of pursuit, rising above the far-sounding murmur of the

eternal sea that rolled upon the sandy beach. Now it seemed the

baying of dogs; then the tramping of horses on the paved road that

led to the bridge of the Saltmarsh; next it was the tread of men's

feet and the clink of accoutrements; but these were all the effect of

an over-excited fancy; for after listening breathlessly, with heads

stooped low, we became assured that there was no sound in the night

air, but the sighing of the wind through the olive and orange groves,

and the murmur of the Propontis as it broke on the silent shore.

We were progressing in the direction of Heraclea, where Major

Catanagh lay with the rest of our comrades and the regiment of the

Mir Alai Saïd. Callum urged that we should lose no time in repairing

there, and insuring our own safety; but I was more intent on reaching

Rodosdchig, where I could draw off my little party, embark them in

boats, and sail for the opposite Isle of Marmora, as I had now no

thought in this world but to save or rescue Sir Horace and his

friends from the danger that menaced them.

'But if our detachment has been recalled from Rodosdchig?' said

Callum; 'what then?--we have been absent several weeks, I think,

though I forgot to reckon the time in yonder atrocious den.'

I had not thought of this chance, and it puzzled me.

Major Catanagh, may have been ordered to join at head-quarters, for

all that we know to the contrary, sir, and may have marched for

Constantinople, said he.

Still my resolution was not altered.

'Let us reach Rodosdchig,' said I, doggedly.

The silent night wore away; pale Phosphorus, the morning star of the

old Greeks, melted into the rosy sky of sunrise, as the god of day

ascended from the distant Ægean sea, and tipped the hills and castles

of the Dardanelles with fire. The waves of the Propontis gleamed in

gold, and rolled like liquid light upon its fertile shores. We found

ourselves in a lonely place, where the sea broke in surf on one hand,

and on the other lay a marshy waste, where buzzards and vultures

seemed the only living things, with a few of those solemn-looking

storks, which are so often to be found perched on the roofs of

Turkish houses; or peeping out of nests of twigs and clay, made under

their eaves.

Day had now fully broken. I concealed the bayonet in my sleeve as a

weapon of defence; but threw the musket into the sea. Then Callum

and I put our sorely-soiled uniforms into the best order, and though

the amount of hair which flourished around our visages gave us rather

a Crimean aspect, it mattered not in Turkey, and we stepped forward

with growing confidence, looking about for some one to direct us, as

the dome and minarets of a mosque (like a punch-bowl between two

champagne bottles) appeared at a distance, and indicated the vicinity

of a town.

Near a well on the wayside, we found an old woman, of an aspect

rather Ghoulish, with her eyes shining through the holes in her

yashmack, which was carefully drawn over her head, though her poor

mammary region was bare and flat as a drumhead. She was filling a

vase of most classical aspect, with the pure water of the circular

well, over which drooped the long branches of a solitary date-palm.

On my inquiring the name of the little town which was now visible

above the orange-groves, she hastily flung down her pitcher in great

alarm, and muttering something about 'Franks and Giaours,' fled from

us.

'The devil's in the cailloch,' said Callum; 'does she take us for

ogres?'

Rather discouraged by the impression our appearance seemed to make,

we pressed on towards the town, beyond which we saw a chain of

snow-capped hills, sparkling in the sunshine like cones of polished

silver. We studied our plans and distances over and over again; and

I shuddered as I thought of the hopeless captivity that might succeed

our recapture--the danger that hung over the Everinghams--the

dreadful Bagnio; and with that recollection there came before me in

fancy the careworn smile of poor Achmet Effendi, and his miserable

comrade the lieutenant of artillery, who were still lingering there.

I knew well the danger and the difficulty attending two unarmed

strangers travelling on foot in such a country as Turkey; for at the

present hour I need scarcely remind the reader that even in the

streets of Stamboul, notwithstanding the presence of regular troops

and patrols of armed police, robberies and assassinations of every

description, by the handjiar, the pistol, the bludgeon, and

strangulation, are of constant occurrence in open day. If such is

the case in the capital of 'the Lord of the Black and White Seas, and

Keeper of the Holy Cities of Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem,' our

prospects in his rural districts were not very encouraging.

By the side of a rivulet we found a dreamy Osmanli reclining under an

orange-tree, regaling himself on dates and cold water, with a paper

cigar in his mouth. He was basking in the sunshine, and believing

himself, perhaps, in the Garden of Delights, though minus the river

of fragrant wine, the fruits of the giant Toaba, and the caresses of

the black-eyed girls, with their limbs of snow, and scanty cymars of

green.

With the usual greeting, I inquired if he knew the town now before us.

He replied in the affirmative; but the name I cannot now remember,

and no map that I have seen bears it.

'Whence come you?' he inquired.

'Frangistan.'

'That I can perceive--but how?'

'By a ship.'

'Allah Kebir! I did not expect you to fly.'

'Of course not--she was wrecked upon the coast.'

'And you escaped?'

'Narrowly, as you may see--all we possess is upon us, and we are

almost famished.'

'Bismillah! now I remember having smoked pipe with you once.'

'Where, Aga?'

'In the khan at Heraclea.'

'I think I remember you,' said I; though in truth I had no

recollection of the worthy man whatever.

'I have some dates and the spring-water here; but you are welcome to

both. Eat with me, and we shall be friends. I am no Aga, but a

humble dealer in cherry-sticks, and having sold all my stock in

Selyvria, am now returning home.'

'To yonder town?'

'Exactly.'

'Has it a Kadi?

'Yes, and none in Roumelia knoweth better the hundred and fourteen

chapters of the Koran. Whenever his carpet is spread, heels are

turned up and heads sliced off in a twinkling! Wallah! he knows the

law well, Hadjee Sohail Ebn Amru; and more than all, he is my elder

brother, and has built for the public use a mosque and fountain,

surrounded by cypresses and mulberry-trees. I had the misfortune to

come into existence a little later than he, so our father left him

every asper he had in the world: thus the Kadi Sohail is a rich

dealer in shawls, silks, and carpets, while I am a poor vender of

cherry-sticks; but what seek you of the Kadi?'

'Not money, my friend.'

'You are wise--what then?'

'Horses to take us to Stamboul.'

'But who will pay for them?'

'Our ambassador.'

'Wallah!' replied the pipe-stick vender; 'all the world say he is

breaking his heart about the fall of Kara; but all the world are

liars, I think. However, as you came to fight for the Faithful,

horses you shall have, if my brother the Kadi can find them.'

The acquaintance of this garrulous fellow was quite a boon to us; and

encouraged by his free and talkative manner, and not a little amused

by the airs of patronage and protection he assumed, we stepped boldly

into the town, giving out, on all hands, that we required horses for

Stamboul.

I found that these Turks were fast making me as sly and reserved as

themselves.

CHAPTER LV.

RESUME MY COMMAND.

Assisted by our new friend, we reached the house and bazaar of the

Kadi Sohail Ebn Amru, who, on our uniforms, and hearing that we

required two horses for the Sultan's service, after wonderfully

little delay, ordered that they should be procured, _i.e._, taken, or

forcibly pressed, from the first or nearest persons who were not

included in the circle of his acquaintance. While the nags were

being brought, the seller of pipe-sticks bustled about, and set

before us a repast of mutton-ham, cheese, white bread, and Kirkissa

wine, and we seated ourselves on some of those soft carpets of Irann,

which are the pride of the Stambouli housewives.

The Kadi was not present, being closeted in an inner apartment with a

stranger, a brother Hadjee, whom he appeared to treat with great

reverence. Ere long he came out, and invited us to enter and

'partake of coffee with his friend, who had travelled a long way on

foot and was weary.'

'A friend?' said I, hesitating.

'Yes, Aga.'

'A soldier?'

'No--a Moolah.'

'But a Moolah may not like us.'

'He is sure to do so.'

'But then we are soldiers,' I continued, still hesitating; 'and

Moolahs hate all soldiers.'

'Mashallah!' said the Kadi; ''tis the famous Hadjee Moustapha, who

has himself been a soldier, and a brave one too.'

We were both confounded by lighting on this devil of a Moolah even

here! I scarcely dared now to whisper our danger to Callum, lest the

visitor might overhear, as a partition formed of striped cloth,

covered with sentences from the Koran alone separated us; and if

discovered by him, all the wealth of Karoon (Crœsus) could not

save us. While pondering what excuse to make, and finding that the

more I pondered the more obstinate my invention became, luckily the

horses--two fine Arabs--ready accoutred, with high demi-pique

saddles, and having bridles and cruppers covered with brass knobs and

long red tassels, were led up by grooms wearing each a red fez and

voluminous blue breeches; then bidding the Kadi and his brother

farewell, and hastily leaving a receipt and order on the regimental

paymaster for the alleged value of the horses, if not safely

returned, we trotted 'away,' as we said, 'for Stamboul;' and then,

from the street corner, started at full gallop for Bodosdchig.

The town we left was garrisoned by two battalions of the Egyptian

contingent, consisting entirely of _one-eyed men_. So great is the

horror of military service in the land of Pharaoh in this age of

steam, that the people mutilate themselves in such numbers to avoid

soldiering, that the Pasha has been compelled to enrol those having

right eyes in one regiment, and those having left eyes in another.

We rode at great speed, and when the sun was verging towards the long

chain of the Tekir mountains, we saw before us the crenelated walls,

the old castle, the flat roofs, the gilded mosques and white minars

of Bodosdchig, with the tall, solemn cypresses, and the green City of

the Silent, where I had first met Iola; and there lay the ruined

hermitage of St. Basil amid its beautiful groves, and the Holy Well

still sparkling in the setting sunshine. My heart filled with tender

memories, and I shuddered when I saw her dreadful grave--the waves of

the blue Propontis--gleaming far beyond the landscape; but I thrust

away such thoughts, and gnawing my nether lip, strove to think only

of Laura and the desperate task I had before me.

Laura and Iola!

The struggle is a sore one, when there is but _one_ heart for _two_

loves!

As we approached the castle, all heedless of the clamour excited

among the usually inert and sullen Turks by our appearance when

galloping through the muddy streets, Callum uttered a shout of

satisfaction on seeing the red coat, the green tartans, and

glittering bayonet of a Highland sentinel at the castle gate.

'Now God and Mary be thanked, our men are here yet!' exclaimed he, in

Gaelic.

As we rode in, our comrades hurried forth to meet us, and in a trice

we had Serjeant Mac Ildhui, Corporal Donald Roy, and every man of my

little detachment around us with clamorous tongues, and hands

outstretched in joyous congratulation, with many an inquiry, while

the Turkish guard of Topchis looked on with a sullen and dogged stare

from under their bushy eyebrows.

Roused by their clamour, an officer in a scarlet jacket and tartan

trews, with a Turkish fez, a bearded chin, and a meerschaum in his

mouth, jumped over a window on the ground-floor, and joined the group

in the castle-yard.

'Mac Innon--Allan Mac Innon!' he exclaimed.

'Jack Belton!'

We shook hands warmly as I dismounted.

'By all the powers, where have you been? In the hands of the evil

genii?'

'Where I cannot tell you, at present.'

'We all feared you had bid farewell----'

'To what?'

'The great scuffle of life.'

'Not at all--but how came you here?'

'To take command of your detachment, when Serjeant Mac Ildhui

reported your lamentable demise, and we had the big drum covered

respectably up with crape, and funeral knots tied on our sword-hilts.

We are to march to-morrow, so had you been a few hours later, we had

been off for Stamboul.'

'Fortunate!' said I, with a glance at Callum; 'but you must delay

your march a little time, Jack. I have a small expedition cut out

for you--'

'Of a warlike nature?'

'Yes.'

'And I have some news for _you_.'

'Indeed!'

'We are both gazetted Lieutenants, _vice_ Cameron and Moray,

dead--one of wounds at Sebastopol, the other of cholera at

Scutari--poor fellows! So we have two commissions to wet--I,

yours--and you, mine. I have another box of cheroots and some prime

Cavendish, with a jar of Kirkissa wine. Come along--I'll hear all

your news in my room--'

'And the Yuze Bashi--how is he?'

'Oh, a most unamiable old fellow--in the sick-list still, having been

powdered and pilled by a Jew Hakim, till he cannot move.'

'Long may he remain so!' said I, revengefully, as we entered Jack's

quarters.

In a few minutes I had refreshed myself, changed my attire, anil sat

down to such a repast as Jack's servant could prepare in haste; we

lighted our cigars; Jack drank his wine out of a tumbler, and I mine

out of a cream-jug, as our utensils were meanly and in a dilapidated

condition. Jack smoked in silence and patience, waiting to hear a

story which I knew not how to begin, as I was loth--exceedingly

loth--to account for that remarkable cruise undertaken by Callum and

me at night; so there was a long silence, during which Jack whiffed

away, and then he stared inquiringly at me.

'You sigh?' said he; 'what the deuce is the matter? Fill your cup

with wine again--and drink, my boy. Remember the mess-room song--

'Since the chief end of life is to live and be jolly,

To be sad about trifles is trifling and folly.'

_En avant_! What have you been about, Allan? We heard that you had

been making love to a Haidee--a flower of "the Isles of Greece," or

some Turkish odalisque--but you lost her? Never mind, my boy--she'll

soon prove, "though lost to sight, to memory _queer_," when we change

quarters.'

I quieted Jack's raillery by a grave relation of my adventures; and

his wonder, anger, and resentment were excited alternately by the

horrors I had undergone, and by the heartless assassination of poor

Clavering; but the moment I mentioned the danger of the yacht, he

started to his feet, exclaiming--

'O hang it! this can never be permitted! We can't march for Heraclea

to-morrow.'

'Of course not, with this devilish business on the tapis.'

'It is our duty--our bounden duty--to march at once with every man we

have, and to save Sir Horace and his people from these butcherly

Mohammedans.'

'March?--sail you mean!' said I.

'And we must get a craft to-night--it is not yet too late,' he

exclaimed, looking at his watch.

'Callum! call Serjeant Mac Ildhui--our lads must all be in marching

order, with haversacks and ammunition, an hour before daylight

to-morrow.'

'Very well, sir.'

'Bravo!' added Jack; 'we shall cut a dash, and have a little war on

our own account.'

'An entire column in the "Times" to ourselves.'

'And a sketch in the "Illustrated News," of course.'

'There go the pipes for tattoo--fill your wine-horn again, Allan!

Here's success to our expedition in the morning!'

CHAPTER LVI.

'BIODH TREUN!'

The morning was cold and frosty, though in the last days of February.

The sun was yet below the horizon; but all the sea that stretched

away towards the mouth of the Bosphorus on one hand, and the

Dardanelles on the other, was covered by a golden brilliance; and a

rosy gleam in the east indicated the quarter from which, without any

lingering twilight, he would climb at once the azure sky. No cloud

shaded the surface of the latter, and scarcely a ripple seemed to

curl the still and beautiful bosom of the Propontis.

Callum brought me my only heir-loom, the old claymore, on the blade

of which my father--in some old Flemish camp, when serving under

York--had written the two words, _Biodh Treun_ (be valiant). I stuck

my revolver and dirk in my belt, and descended to the parade-ground

full of enthusiasm and hope.

My little band of Highlanders mustered in the chill morning with

alacrity. They were all in light marching order, and in addition to

their arms and accoutrements, carried only their greatcoats and

wooden canteens. I carefully inspected their ammunition, and then

marched them to the landing-place, where a large kochamba, which had

been procured overnight, and which was manned by eight stout

galiondgis, awaited us. Before marching out, I had no little

difficulty in explaining to the Yuze Bashi's second in command the

nature of the expedition on which we were departing, and that we must

necessarily return for our baggage, knapsacks, and squad-bags, before

marching to Heraclea. To the Major I despatched a mounted Topchi,

with a letter acquainting him with my return to my party, my late

adventures, and the nature of the service on which I had gone--a

service of which I was convinced he would approve, as the necessary

protection of British subjects had forced me upon it, and as there

was no vessel of war near with which I could communicate, and, save

my Highlanders, no other armed force on which I could rely.

Of these Highlanders, whose task was now to save Sir Horace from the

pirates, _eight_ were evicted Mac Innons of Glen Ora; and in the

ranks I heard them recalling to each other the day 'when the glen was

desolated,' as we marched from the castle with our pipe playing, and

embarked in the kochamba; then we shipped eight long sweeps, with two

men to each, hoisted the long and tapering lateen sail, and stood out

of the harbour of Rodosdchig, with a fair wind that bore us away

southward for the Isle of Marmora.

As we put to sea, Callum urged me in a whisper to have the boat's

head shot first to starboard--'_the deisuil_,' as he said, 'in honour

of the sun'--an old superstitious custom, for which, like many

others, he was a great stickler; and as I had the tiller-ropes, it

was at once complied with.

My fellows were all lively and merry at the prospect of a brush with

any one; and this duty seemed a stirring change after the dull

monotony of mounting guard in that old castle, whose shadow fell far

across the shining water, and where their only companions were the

stolid, opium-drugged, big-breeched, raki-drinking, and

chibouque-smoking Topchis of the Yuze Bashi Hussein.

With their broad chests heaving, and their bearded faces flushed by

exertion as they bent to their task, Callum Dhu, Donald Roy, and

Serjeant Mac Ildhui sang an old Highland boat-song, to which the

rowers kept time with their broad-bladed sweeps, that flashed like

fire as they threw the silver spray towards the rising sun--the

glorious sun of Asia, which filled all that morning sea with his

dazzling splendour--and while the piper played in the prow, all the

soldiers joined in parts, their thirty voices making the sky ring

when they united in one volume, to the astonishment of the immovable

Turks, and to the great amusement of Jack Belton, who enjoyed our

enthusiasm, but laughed like a Lowlander at the strange words of the

chorus, which suited the action of the oars, and were somewhat to the

following purpose:--

'_Horo, horo, horo elé,

Horo, horo, horo elé;

Hu ho i o 'sna ho elé,_' &c.

'Well, 'pon my soul,' said Jack, as he lolled in the stern-sheets of

the boat, polishing the barrel of a finished Colt with the ashes of

his cheroot, 'this is better fun than blowing on the flute, or

pumping on an accordion all day long in one's barrack-room for lack

of something to do.'

'Wait,' said I, 'until you have seen Fanny Clavering; your mind will

then be fully occupied.'

'By love for her?'

'Of course.'

'Query--is she beautiful?'

'I don't think Heaven ever created another so brilliant and so

fascinating.'

'Indeed! you quite interest me. The deuce! I shall be in danger of

losing both life and liberty; but I don't mean to wed in a hurry.'

'Fanny has a handsome fortune--she is rich.'

'Money is nothing to a sub of a year or two's standing.'

'True--but we may remain jolly subs long enough now.'

'Don't think of it, pray--but alas! peace will soon be proclaimed

now, as we have polished off the imperial boots of His Majesty of

Russia, and all the additional battalions must be reduced.'

'Fanny's bright hazel eyes--'

'Will not lure me into matrimony, pin-money, and baby-jumpers. I

mean not to think of such things until I require cotton caps,

water-gruel, and hot bottles at night; until I give up the polka,

relinquish my pipe, and vote the mistletoe a most improper appendage

to a Christmas chandelier; when I consider music a bore, and babies

_not_ a bother; when I deem flirtation disgraceful, and prefer a

quiet game at crown-points to whirling with Maria or Louisa in the

_deux temps_--I shall think of it seriously, and prepare to take upon

my knee a little Jack Belton, and sing "Ride a cock horse to Bambury

Cross," or of old "Humpty Dumpty who sat on a wall," and so forth.'

While Jack ran on thus, Callum Dhu, who sat near me with his belt and

jacket off, pulling the stroke oar, was listening to him with a quiet

smile, for he liked his rattling, off-hand manner.

'Callum,' said I, '_you_ remember Miss Clavering?'

'Many a time, sir, I have led her pony up Ben Ora, and round the

Craig-na-tuirc! Who that ever saw her could forget her?' he replied,

as his eye sparkled and his cheek flushed, while he gave fresh energy

to tugging at the bending sweep; 'She was ever so gay, so beautiful,

so joyous and flattering!'

'And Miss Everingham, too,' I added, in a low voice; 'Mrs. Clavering,

I should say.'

Callum gave me a glance full of deep and sorrowful meaning; but he

only bit his proud nether lip, and bent more lustily to the oar. He

was as full of ardour at the prospect of risking his life in defence

of these two ladies as if he was the accepted lover of them both; for

poor Callum's heart was chivalrous as it was kind and true; and

though, like himself, more than one soldier in that huge lumbering

boat had good reason to curse the intrusive name of Everingham, and

that feudal law which enabled a landlord to evict the people, they

were all ready to face fire and water, shot and steel, to rescue him

and his friends from the perils that surrounded them. Fresh hands

were laid on the oars; the sun attained its meridian height; the

outlines of the Isle of Marmora began to rise higher to the

southward; sturdily pulled the Highland oarsmen, and still their

strange wild chorus was wafted to leeward on the Grecian sea--

'_Horo, horo, horo el,

Horo, horo, horo elé;

Hu ho i o 'sna ho elé._'

CHAPTER LVII.

THE ISLE OF MARMORA.

I gazed alternately on the distant island that was now rising faint

and blue from the shining sea, and on the huge lateen sail that

tapered far away aloft upon its slender yard, which resembled a

fishing-rod, while Belton still lounged in the stern-sheets, and

lunched on sliced Bologna sausages, biscuits, and sherry.

'Yonder Isle of Marmora has some interest for me,' said he; 'I had an

uncle who got his wife out of that identical place.'

'From the marble quarries, perhaps.'

'Not at all--he was no Pygmalion. He was first-lieutenant in the

flagship here, about ten years ago, and being in hopeless ill health,

was landed, with six months' leave to remain at the house of an

Armenian merchant, who treated him with great kindness, and whose

daughter--young and lovely, of course--nursed him with the most

enchanting tenderness. So whether it was owing to the fresh breezes

from the Propontis, the cool wines of old Greece, or the charms of

the soft maid of Armenia, I know not; but before the six months were

up, mine uncle reported himself to the Admiral as "fit for duty," and

joined his ship. He thought very sadly about his Armenian for a

time, and felt very restless in his cot at night; but soon dismissed

her from his thoughts, as the ship had to be painted and overhauled,

and sent home to Portsmouth. A year after he was with our fleet at

Stamboul, and while rambling there with a brother captain--for he had

his own frigate then--they entered the slave-market in disguise.

There he saw--what?--his beautiful Armenian friend--his kind little

nurse--the daughter of his hospitable entertainer--offered for sale

as a slave! She knew him, and in tears and agony stretched her

pretty hands towards him; for she was a Christian woman, and felt

keenly all the horrors of her situation. Her story was soon told.

Her father's ships had perished at sea; his wealth had passed away;

he died, and his Turkish creditors had remorselessly seized

everything, even to the carpet his daughter sat on. Then they seized

her too, and offered her for sale--and there she stood, with a ticket

on her breast, and her price marked thereon.

'For sale! My uncle was an honest fellow--he damned their eyes all

round, and swore he felt it in his heart to flog one-half Stamboul

and keelhaul the other. An Unbeliever cannot purchase women; but my

uncle knew a Turkish officer, who was an Irishman--Bim Bashi

O'Toole--who, for a dozen of wine, undertook to manage the affair; so

for four hundred guineas he bought the fair Armenian, and married her

at the ambassador's chapel. Then he brought her home in his own

frigate. He is now posted, a C.B., on half-pay, and resides with his

Armenian wife, and six little half-Scotch, half-Armenian imps, in one

of the prettiest villages in Strathearn; so you see, Mac Innon, this

classic island of Marmora has quite a family interest for me.'

While Jack ran on in this fashion, I was wholly occupied in thinking

of two soft eyes, and a certain fair, pale, English face, with its

chestnut braids and rosy lips, and of a low sweet voice, that seemed

already whispering in my ear--the voice of Laura, whose tones had

come to me so often in the dreams of night. In imagination I again

beheld her, and that peculiar _individuality_ which indicates every

one by habit, gesture, form, and smile, came all before me in one

gush of memory.

The nut-brown sail, with its broad, black stripes, bellied out in the

light wind that played over the ripples of the noonday sea, but ere

long the wind grew light, and as it died away, the sail flapped

heavily and the kochamba lurched and rolled upon the glassy swell.

The day drew on, and soon the rosy tints of sunset lingered on the

shore, bathing with a ruby gleam each wooded bay and rocky cape that

stretched into the dim and azure haze, far, far away. The coast of

Roumelia seemed all of sapphire hue; the little Isle of Coudouri

beamed from the blue sea like a huge amethyst sparkling with

diamonds--these were the casements of its little town, that were

glittering in the western light.

The Isle of Marmora now looked close and high, and I sighed for the

lagging wind, as we lay becalmed about four miles off its western

promontory, and one mile due east of Coudouri, with the sea darkening

fast around us, and the stars coming out one by one from the sky of

brilliant amber.

While we continued to scan the coast with our telescopes, as it was

in this part of the Isle the yacht was ashore, Jack Belton discovered

the masts and hull of a smart schooner, which lay pretty high up in

one of the sandy bays that now opened upon our view; and this we had

no doubt was the craft we were in quest of, as the position in which

she lay, and her appearance, exactly corresponded to what we had

heard of the _Fairy Bell_, Sir Horace's vessel. Being somewhat tired

by the exertions of the past day, my soldiers and the galiondgis had

relinquished their oars, and sat gazing dreamily either at the glassy

water or the little black speck which indicated the hull of the yacht

ashore.

'Suppose the islanders were to rise upon us, and assist these

Oriental ticket-of-leavers!' said Belton.

'You are most unpleasantly suggestive,' said I; 'but let them rise,

they are welcome.'

'Indeed!'

'Yes. With thirty Highlandmen, I would not fear to face three

hundred Greeks.'

'Even those of Leonidas?'

'Yes, Jack--even those of Leonidas!'

'Bravo!--but this may prove more than a mere melo-dramatic

performance.'

'It may--but ha!--what is that?' I exclaimed.

'A gun--a flash on the shore!'

'Another!'

'And another!'

'Now, heavens above, what may this mean?'

'The pirates.'

'The pirates already!'

'We have been anticipated by the four caiques!' cried several voices.

'Out with the sweeps and oars!--down with the mast and yard!--in with

the sail!' I commanded, with excited energy, and the orders were

obeyed with alacrity.

'Clap on to the sweeps now!'

'Give way, my boys--give way with a will!' said Belton.

Flash after flash came rapidly and redly from the dark and wooded

bay; the boom of carronades pealed over the water, and then came the

patter of small arms.

My soul was full of anxiety; I panted rather than breathed, for I was

without a doubt that we had been anticipated--that those wretches had

commenced their attack, and that Sir Horace was fighting gallantly,

like a brave English gentleman.

'But see,' said Callum, to whom I had freely communicated all my

fears, 'there are three or four vessels now rounding the promontory

and entering the bay, for good or for evil?'

'The telescope, Jack--the telescope, for God's sake!--thank you,'

said I, adjusting it for a night observation, as the darkness had now

almost set in; but I could distinctly perceive four long, low, and

sharply-built caiques, full of men, many of whom appeared to be armed

with muskets, pulled swiftly round a black promontory of rock which

jutted into that sea of amber, and each in succession shot swiftly

into the wooded bay.

Several brilliant rockets now hissed upward into the blue sky; and as

their sparkles descended in a shower among the woods, or on the

rippled water all became dark and still--so deathly still, that I

heard only the beating of my heart, and the half-suppressed breathing

of the rowers, three of whom were bending on every sweep, and the

splashing of the water, as we neared the eastern headland of the

little bay in which the yacht was beached, and into which these dark

and mysterious craft had glided so noiselessly.

CHAPTER LVIII.

THE FAIRY BELL.

The Island of Marmora--the Elephonesos of the ancients--is a

dependency of an Anatolian Sanjiack, and lies sixty miles south-west

of Stamboul. It is about ten miles long, and has a miserable little

town of romantic-looking wigwams on its southern coast, and a Turkish

pharos on a promontory towards the Bosphorus. Of old, it was famous

for its marble quarries, but now is noted only for sterility, and its

meagre population of bare-footed and blue-breeched Greek fishermen.

The bay, however, which we were now stealthily entering, was richly

wooded; but many of the trees were bare, for the black gusts of the

last autumn had swept both sea and shore; but there the wild almond

was wont to shed its silver blossoms in spring, and even now, the

wild thyme, the caper-shrub, the rose-laurel, the woodbine, and the

china-rose, made all the inlet beautiful; nor were the scarlet lotus,

or the graceful date-palm, which an Oriental poet likens to a young

beauty bending her head; or the soft perfume of the sweet El-caya

tree of Yemen, wanting to complete the charm of this dark and shady

cove. Softly we stole in, with handkerchiefs tied round our sweeps

to muffle them; and while we pulled swiftly, keeping close in shore,

and under the deep shadow thrown by the woods upon the starlit water,

we carefully loaded and capped our fire-arms, all of which were

fortunately Minie rifles, as my detachment belonged to the Light

Company.

Now at the end of the bay the moon rose broad and full, and as her

giant disc heaved up in all its bright effulgence from the shining

sea, a column of light flashed from the horizon into the wooded

creek, and displayed its sylvan scenery.

We could see the yacht--the _Fairy Bell_--as she lay in the shallow

water careened to port; she was tautly rigged; her foremast was

strong; her mainmast tall, and tapering away aloft like the finest

willow wand. Her hull was long and low; her breadth of beam was

great, and the copper on her sharp bows shone like burnished gold in

the moonlight; her decks were flush, level, and had twelve

carronades--all of which, however, were quite useless, by the

elevation of their muzzles on one side, and the consequent depression

on the other; and I saw at a glance that, unless vigorously defended,

this smart little yacht, the flower of Cowes, the pink of the Channel

squadron, and the winner of five silver cups which adorned the

library at Elton Hall, would fall a prey to these piratical caiques.

We were all nearing her rapidly; but fortunately the dark shadow of

the wooded shore completely veiled the kochamba, while the caiques

were fully visible in the blaze of a moonlight that filled the bay.

A half-shout, half-cheer, from the crew of the yacht--now distant

from us about five hundred yards--announced that her people were on

the alert. Then a garland of fire zoned her low black gunwale round,

as a volley of fire-arms was poured upon the approaching boats, and

crashed through their planking.

'Hurrah!' cried Jack Belton; 'the old M.P. is quite up to the mark, I

think!'

'Keep close in--keep in the shadow,' said I; 'or, by Jove! we may

come in for a dose of that, too, before they know who we are.'

'That fire was well directed,' said Callum.

'It has staggered those devils in the boats--I see them throwing

aside their oars,' added Jack.

'Stretch out--stretch out!' I exclaimed, drawing my sword; 'and be

ready, every man of yous to fire the moment I give the word!'

It was most unfortunate for the yacht that her guns were rendered

useless by her heel to port; but the fire of her small-arms was

brisk; and a yell replied, as the caiques, which had been warily

pulled in a line duly astern of her, now dashed upon her quarters,

and a vigorous attempt was made by the Turks to board. In the

moonlight we could see the momentary gleam of sabres as they were

brandished, and of bayonets as they were pointed; the flashing of

pistols, and the appearance of dark faces and darker figures, as they

strove to gain a footing on the side-chains, and to force a passage,

by fighting, to the schooner's deck, but were thrust over by the

bayonet or beaten down by the clubbed musket; and were dashed,

wounded and bleeding, into the sandy and blood-stained water, which

took them up to the girdle, or little above it. With all their

efforts, it was evident the yachts-men would have the worst of it ere

long, for some of the Greek villains had just forced a passage to the

deck, when one more stroke of the sweeps brought us within sure range.

'Now, Highlanders,' cried I, 'ready!--present!--you can pick off

these fellows like a covey of partridges.'

'Or sparrows on a midden,' added Callum, as thirty Minie rifles,

levelled low, were fired out of the gloomy shade, and thirty

spherical rifled bullets whistled among the dark crowd which filled

the caiques.

'Keep up your fire, my lads,' cried I, 'and give way--stretch out!' I

added to the galiondgis; 'close up--let us only come hand to hand

with them; pull right across the stern of the yacht, and rake the

boats alongside.'

This enabled us to sweep the caiques on both sides of her; and my men

kept up a brisk fire. As they had sixty rounds each, there was no

danger of their running short of ammunition. Yells of fear and rage

were now blended with those of pain, and the water was full of dead

and wounded wretches, from among whom some forty or fifty of the

survivors were frantically endeavouring to escape; and to the

astonishment of the yachts-men, who were totally unable to comprehend

from what quarter this unexpected succour had come, the attack was

abandoned with precipitation; and two of the caiques were pulled

rapidly away, while the others floated alongside, deserted by their

crews; for all who were not lying dead on the thwarts, or struggling

with wounds and broken limbs in the water, had scrambled ashore and

fled.

The attack had been made by not less than sixty outlaws--all

savage-looking Suliotes, half-black Natolians, wild Arabs, and

Candiote mariners. Of these nearly twenty had been sent to their

last account; but the affair was not over yet.

Four or five had fought their way on board the yacht; but when our

fire had swept the water alongside, they all sprang overboard, save

one, who concealed himself in one of the quarter-boats, at the moment

we boarded the schooner.

As I ascended the side, a strange-looking personage, clad in a

light-blue uniform jacket minus tails, a pair of checked Tweed

trousers, and wearing a cavalry helmet of unique form, appeared to

welcome us. He was armed with a large sabre, and though his upper

lip had been put on the war establishment, and wore a grisly

moustache--and though the costume he had so hastily donned was partly

the uniform of the South Pedlington Yeomanry, of which he was

Lieutenant-Colonel, I had no difficulty in recognising the sleek

round visage and well-curved paunch of old Sir Horace Everingham, all

breathless and blown, and decidedly more 'out of sorts' than ever I

had seen him, when toiling up my Highland hills at home.

'Never was aid more opportune, my dear sir,' said he; 'from whence

have you come with your soldiers--from the clouds? Awful business

this--but I expected it--I shall complain to our ambassador--those

d----d ungrateful Greeks! I shall address the House on the

subject--I will expose it in the "Times" newspaper--I will, sir, by

Heaven!'

Close by the baronet stood his _fidus Achates_, the pale and

affrighted Mr. Jeames Toodles, whom he had barbarously forced to

remain on deck, and who, having no idea of how to handle any lethal

weapon, had spread before him an immense gig umbrella, which loomed

in his front like the shield of Achilles, and which he had

successfully held between him and 'the dark Suliotes,' whom he

believed to be nothing else than veritable Bashi Bozooks, of whom he

had seen some appalling sketches in the 'Illustrated London News.'

Several of the fugitives, from among the dark foliage on shore, were

now firing with their muskets and pistols, and had wounded some of

us. We pulled vigorously towards the beach, and opened a random fire

of musketry upon those lurkers in the jungle; but now there came a

shrill cry from the deck of the yacht. I looked back, and for a

moment saw the light dress of a lady flutter in the moonlight--and

then there was a heavy splash in the water alongside, as she was

flung overboard.

It was Fanny Clavering, who, impelled by an irresistible curiosity,

had peeped on deck, and had at that instant been seized and tossed

over the gunwale by the pirate who was concealed in the quarter-boat.

This pirate was Zahroun, the galiondgi, the wretch whom I had left in

the Bagnio, but who had escaped from thence, heaven alone knows how

(unless aided by Clavering's ring), to share in the horrors of this

night attack, which he had so carefully and daringly projected.

In another moment we saw this brawny villain standing on the beach,

with the light form of Fanny in his arms (but I knew not that the

girl was Fanny then); and a sickly terror that she might be Laura

palsied every thought and energy. At arms' length he held her up

triumphantly above him, and uttered a cry of derision and defiance:

'Allah ho Ackbar!'--a cry, half-laugh, half-yell--as he opposed her

light and drooping figure to the levelled muskets which we dared not

discharge. I sprang into the water, with my claymore in one hand,

and a loaded revolver, with a single barrel but having six chambers,

in the other. Yet I could not fire a single shot for the same reason

that withheld the truer aims of Belton and our soldiers, lest the

ball might miss the vulture and hit the dove. Callum Dhu followed me

close, with his rifle cocked; but as we advanced from the water, up

the sandy and pebbled beach, Zahroun ran hurriedly inland, and while

we pursued, once, twice--ay thrice, the dark wood was streaked with

light, as pistols were fired from the jungle at us, but happily

missed.

Now on a little plateau of rock, in the full blaze of the moonlight,

the brawny and bandy-legged figure of Zahroun appeared against the

sky in dark and strong outline. He grasped his captive by her hair

with his left hand; she was on her knees beside him, and with his

right arm held aloft, he flourished a long keen Turkish handjiar,

which flashed with a blue gleam, for it is a weapon deadly as the

creese of a Malay.

'Now, now, foster-brother!' cried I, to Callum Dhu, in Gaelic, 'by

God's love and your mother's bones, fire true!'

He knelt down on one knee, and quick as thought took aim; his keen

and hawk-like eye glanced along the smooth rifle-barrel--there was a

flash--a sharp report; the form of Zahroun wheeled frantically round

for a moment in the air, and then fell flat beside his rescued

prisoner.

'Dioul!' said Callum, as he coolly reloaded, and cast about his

musket; 'tha chried mi gu'n d'thoir am fear ad tuille trioblaidh

dhuinn!' (The devil! I don't think yonder lout will trouble us

more.)

But he was mistaken; for again the figure of Zahreun staggered wildly

up, and he fired a pistol at random, and, in revenge, full at us. I

felt a sharp twinge in my left side, as if a hot iron had seared me

suddenly. I became giddy, and as I tottered, the dread of leaving

life and all the world entered my soul, vividly and painfully.

'O Callum!' I exclaimed, and fell backward into his arms; 'the

villain has shot me!'

A volley rang in my ears as the Highlanders poured all their shot and

vengeance on Zahroun, who fell prone to the turf, literally riddled

by rifle-balls.

Callum's deadly aim, by bringing this savage down and arresting his

upraised knife, had averted a great calamity, and saved the life of

Fanny Clavering. Another second had seen our terrified beauty laid

at the feet of the galiondgi a corpse.

Fanny knew and felt all she owed to Callum, for she had seen him

kneel and aim when others shrank from the perilous task; and as he

sprang lightly up the rock, and tenderly raised her, she impulsively

threw herself with a burst of transport into his arms; for in a

moment she recognized her former acquaintance and guide over the

steep craigs and heath-clad mountains of Glen Ora.

'Callum Dhu--Callum Mac Ian!' she exclaimed, 'and you it is who have

saved me--oh Callum, how I shall love you!'

The features of Callum were strongly marked, and bore evidence of

deep and bitter thoughts, and of ready passions. His eyes were keen,

and, by turns, fierce and thoughtful, sad, and winning. His bearing

was soldier-like; his moustaches were smartly trimmed; his eyebrows

were thick and well defined. Fanny, a constitutional coquette,

brought all her batteries to bear upon the handsome Highlander; and

the moment that her native spirit of fun and flirtation replaced her

terror of death, she would have no other hand and no other arm than

those of her 'preserver, her dear, dear old friend Callum,' to

conduct her to the yacht, and assist her up the side on board.

There, too, I was conveyed in an almost inanimate state; and the

alarm for my safety was greatly increased by the total absence of any

medical attendance.

I shall not describe the grief of honest Callum, or the terror of

Laura Everingham, who during the past conflict had been seated, pale

and in tears, in the cabin of the yacht; nor her cry of anguish, on

seeing the poor young officer of the Highlanders, who had come so

miraculously to their aid, borne senseless and bleeding into her

father's cabin; nor shall I attempt to detail her wild glance and

speechless astonishment, when the blunt baronet returned to tell her

'that this unfortunate fellow was no other than Allan Mac Innon, the

son of old Glen Ora, the wild Highland boy she had known at home!' *

* * * * *

It was long before poor Laura could realize the truth of this

information, or the terrible tidings of Clavering's death, which,

after the hurly-burly was over, she learned from Jack Belton and

Callum Dhu next morning.

CHAPTER LIX.

A GLEAM OF OTHER DAYS.

The firing which we had heard on coming in sight of the yacht was

caused by Sir Horace, who, to soothe his impatience, had been

discharging his carronades. Moreover, from an old Greek pilot, who

dwelt on the little isle of Coudouri, he had received some hints,

that unless the yacht was speedily got to sea, she might be attacked

some night and plundered.

In this affair several of the yachts-men were killed, and several

severely wounded; but all the Highlanders escaped, save Donald Roy,

who had one of his bare legs slashed by a yataghan; the son of old

Ian Mac Raonuil, who received a pistol-shot through the left

shoulder, and another lad from my glen, a son of Alisdair Mac Gouran,

who was bruised by a musket-butt; but the surgeon of the

_Mahmoudieh_, the Turkish steamer, which came in a day or two after,

and who proved to be a clever Milanese, soon put all our cuts and

scars right, and pronounced me out of danger, though two of my ribs

were broken on the left side, and I was weak as a child from

over-excitement and loss of blood. His injunctions moreover were,

that I was not to be removed; but there was no chance of that, while

Laura and Fanny hovered like guardian angels near my cabin-door, and

while the burst of gratitude that swelled the heart of Sir Horace, on

finding himself rescued by Her Majesty's troops, and by my personal

exertions, remained in his bosom--all aristocratic, externally

frigid, and exclusive as it was.

'Removed!' he reiterated, 'no, no--he shall make my yacht his

home--and every Highlander shall make it his home. They must remain

on board till the schooner returns to Constantinople (she had left it

three weeks ago, on her return to England), and I will be accountable

for them all to their commanding officer. I am an M.P., as well as a

Lieutenant-Colonel--yes, Lieutenant-Colonel of the gallant South

Peddlington Yeomanry, or Prince Alfred's Own Carbineers, the terror

of the mining districts.'

Jack Belton and Sergeant Mac Ildhui with twenty men had a hunt--a

regular stalking-match--over the island for the fugitive pirates; but

not one was to be found; they had all vanished like the three hundred

and sixty idols of Mecca, when the prophet waved his enchanted lance.

Then Jack conceiving that it would be much more pleasant to proceed

to Stamboul in the yacht of Sir Horace, when there were two charming

young ladies on board, with the best of good living, prime port, and

'no end' of pink champagne and hermetically-sealed provisions, than

to march on foot from Rodosdchig to Heraclea, and from thence to the

Golden Horn, warmly seconded the baronet's grateful invitation, and

sent a despatch to Major Catanagh, detailing Sir Horace's wish, and

warmly commending his zeal for Her Majesty's service. He also sent

the pinnace of the Mahmoudieh for our men's knapsacks, squadbags, and

baggage; and while the lubberly Believers, who formed the crew of

that imperial steamer, were endeavouring, with all the force of their

paddles, engines, and hawser, to drag the yacht into deep water when

the tide flowed, Jack was quietly seated in the cabin--about a month

after all these troubles--beside Fanny at the piano, turning over the

leaves of her music, and gazing sentimentally on her glossy tresses

and white hands, while she warbled away, and in a low voice told him

how 'she dared not seek to offer him, a timid love like hers;' till

our matter-of-fact Jack was quite overcome, and the merry Fanny,

already recovering from the shock of late events, was filled with

laughter at the triumph of her own beauty, and the success of her

brilliant coquetry.

She had already forgotten poor Snobleigh, who, after doing his duty

bravely in the trenches before the Sedan, was found one morning cold

and stiff, with his sword and a half-finished cigar beside him. He

had been slain in the night by the splinter of a 'whistling-dick,'

_i.e._, a ten-inch shell, and was now taking his eternal rest with

the gallant Blair, and eleven other officers of the Household

Brigade, on Cathcart's Hill.

At last the yacht was got fairly afloat, and was anchored in the

stream. Her sails were bent anew, her running rigging rove, and the

testy old baronet longed for the time that should find him under

weigh to lay his grievances personally before our ambassador.

Beating against a head-wind, that blew straight from the Bosphorus,

the _Fairy Bell_ was close-hauled on the starboard tack. It was

evening now; the wind was light; a warm glow bathed all the shore,

and tinted with amber and crimson the waves that rolled upon the

beach from Ogia to the Point of St. Stephen.

I had been insensible, or weak and dozing, for many days and many

nights--in short, I must have been feverish and delirious for some

time previous; and on this evening, when the cool sea-breeze from the

open cabin-window fanned my cheek, and the bright waves ran merrily

past in the setting sunshine, I first became aware of existence; the

painful phantasmagoria of sickness passed away, and I felt conscious

of the rippling water, the warm sun, and the flowers that stood in

vases near me. I had dreams of Laura Everingham, and of her pretty

face prying into mine--that face, the soft features of which were

almost fading from my memory like a dream of other years. I

remembered sounds of music that had come to me in sleep; soft

perfumed hands that had touched me; subdued lights, and whispering

voices, and then long, dull, and monotonous silences. I started and

awoke to life! Laura's well-remembered voice was in my ear, and

speaking to me--every accent was painfully yet delightfully distinct.

The voice of Laura--could it be? Was the tender memory of Iola--were

all the events of the past year--but a dream? Or was the hope that

had brightened other days coming back to me again?

Who has not felt the nameless, the indescribable thrill, amounting

almost to a pang of joy, that shoots through the heart after a long,

and it might be, hopeless separation, when the old familiar voice of

one beloved--a friend, relation, or lover falls upon the ear?

I drew back the curtain--there was a light step on the carpet; a

little hand was placed in mine, and two blue eyes looked kindly and

tenderly on my face with a sad smile, such as Laura alone could give.

'Oh, Laura!' I whispered, in a breathless voice, 'I have suffered

much--very much since we last met.'

'And I, too, have suffered,' said she, weeping.

'You?--oh--I remember now.' I added, pressing a hand upon my brow,

and endeavouring to rally all my thoughts; 'did not some one die--and

then we had some fighting?'

But my brain became giddy and I closed my eyes, yet I still felt the

pressure of Laura's little hand, as it lay trembling in mine. My

heart vibrated to its pulses, for in this there was a dangerous and

alluring novelty that bewildered me. Sleep seemed to come upon me

again, and of that interview I remember no more.

Again it was evening, and the sun, as he set behind the faint blue

hills of Roumelia, shed a blaze of yellow glory over the vast extent

of Constantinople, gilding its embattled towers, its tall white

galleried minarets, topped with glittering crescents, its gilded

domes of dazzling brightness, and its dense masses of terraced roofs,

filling every casement apparently with lamps of burnished gold. The

green foliage of the Seraglio Garden and of the Prince's Island; the

white walls of Scutari, the strong tower of Galata, Pera, the

residence of the Franks, were all sparkling in light; and the forest

of masts and gay ensigns that crowded the Golden Horn seemed to be

countless as the light caiques that shot over the ripples of the

Bosphorus.

Long and black rows of cypresses cast their shadows to the east,

lengthening, as the sun departs; then, hark! the red evening guns

peal from the strong tower of the Seraskier; the ships of war reply,

and the muezzins, from a thousand mosques, shout the shrill cry 'to

prayer!' while over tower and temple, cypress-grove and guarded ship,

over the Seven Towers, the giant façade of the Seraglio, and over all

the sparkling sea the sunlight dies away.

We were at anchor off the city, and stretched upon a cushioned sofa,

I gazed languidly at all this from the stern windows, as the yacht

swung round with the stream.

Laura was beside me; Sir Horace had gone ashore to confer with the

ambassador; Fanny was with Jack Belton in the outer cabin, as the

tinkling of a piano informed me--and, as Laura timidly seated herself

by my side, Callum Dhu, my constant, my kind and faithful attendant,

retired on deck.

I felt happy; for after a separation so long and so hopeless, and

having the certainty of a separation before us again, to be with her

was to enjoy perfect happiness.

'Laura,' said I, 'I feel as if in a dream--while addressing you, and

when uttering your name.'

'A dream?'

'From which I fear to waken.'

'Dream on, then, dear Allan, if it delights you.'

'My life at home was all an agony of suspense and continued

mortifications, even while hope, however faint and slender, lasted;

but how shall I describe the torture that life became, after hope

itself faded away, and I lost you--lost you for ever!'

Laura answered only with her tears, and a long pause, filled up by

tender smiles and mute caressing glances or a pressure of the hand

ensued. All was forgiven and forgotten.

My letter from Dumbarton she had _never received_. So this imaginary

neglect, which had stung me so deeply, was at once explained away.

And what of poor Iola? Was my love for her forgotten quite?

Here, in my own extenuation, I cannot do better than quote a

paragraph from one of the most pleasing of our female writers--one

alike charming for the brilliancy of her style and the beauty of her

person, when referring to a man's first and other loves:--

'He spoke no more than truth when he told you that you were his ideal

of love and loveliness. The woman who is so beloved may have

successors, as she may have had predecessors; but rivals--properly so

called--she can have none. Lone and different as the moon in a

heaven full of stars, she remains in the world of that man's heart.

He has known other women and he has known HER. It may be the love of

his youth, or the wife of his old age--first love, or last love--it

matters not. _The_ love--the one love that fulfils all the

exigencies of illusion, all the charms of sense, and all the

pleasures of companionship, comes but _once_ in a man's life-time.

The rest are substitutes, make-shifts for love. To them in vain he

shall affirm or deny that which they desire or dread to hear. In his

heart a shadow sits enthroned, who for ever bends down to listen--to

watch those who would approach him--and bar them out, with whispers

of sorrowful comparison, and the delight of remembered days.'

During my passion for Iola I believed that Laura's marriage had freed

me from every tie to _her_--a bitter freedom certainly.

The story of Clavering's horrid fate had been told to her long since

by Jack Belton, and on my recovery, her natural sorrow was one of the

first things that piqued and galled me, the more so as poor Tom's

miniature, done in Thorburn's best style, seemed to be constantly

winking at me out of a brooch on Laura's breast. I referred to this,

and she gave me a sad smile.

'Poor Clavering was well worthy of all my esteem,' said she; '_that_

sentiment he possessed to the full, Allan, but my love--never! Oh,

never! for it was yours, and yours only, dear Allan,' she added,

sobbing on my shoulder. 'He knew that he possessed my purest esteem

when he married me, and hoped that love would follow the marriage

into which papa's impetuosity hurried me--a vain and too often a

wicked hope. Advised by some, cajoled by others, quizzed by a few,

seriously urged by the many, and overawed by papa, I consented to

become his wife, and no time was given for reflecting or retracting.

You were lost to me, and other love I had none; so the day came at

last which was to make your Laura Everingham his Laura Clavering--the

fatal day came and the hour! The vows were said; the mute assent was

given; _this_ gold ring was placed upon my finger--there was a

kissing of friends to undergo--a murmur of voices, and a hum of

congratulation. I heard the marriage-bells jangling overhead and

felt myself lifted into a carriage. I had fainted, and remember no

more of that day--but that poor Clavering was all tenderness and

kindness.'

I sighed bitterly at this description; and then felt something of joy

and triumph as Laura placed her cheek caressingly to mine, while with

her sweet eyes the very sunshine seemed to brighten as she smiled

with the same smile that first shed a light upon my path in life, and

taught me that I had a heart to lose.

'Ah, Laura,' I exclaimed, 'I have but one request to make of heaven.'

'And it is----'

'That you will love me as of old.'

'Dearest Allan, my heart never wavered in its love for you; though my

affections were forced upon another, my soul was ever with you. Take

courage, Allan, you will soon recover, and all will yet be well.'

'I have no wish to recover!' I exclaimed, with a sudden burst of

renewed bitterness.

'Allan!'

'None. I wish that Zahroun's shot had pierced my heart; I can never

win you, for your father hates me, and will never consent to our

marriage!'

'_He does not hate you_, my dear boy,' exclaimed the hearty voice of

old Sir Horace, as he started forward from a corner of the cabin,

where he had been for some time an unknown observer of this scene;

'he does not hate you--but he loves and regards you, as you deserve

to be loved and regarded, for he owes you a debt of eternal

gratitude; he owes you life and more than life--the safety and honour

of his dear little Laura. Take her, Allan Mac Innon, and with her

take your old ancestral glen, wood and water, rock and mountain--and

may God bless you both, and make you happy as you deserve to be!'

CHAPTER XL.

FAREWELL.

After the interesting tableau with which the last chapter concludes,

the reader may consider that to say more were a useless task; but

there are others in this narrative for whom I trust he--or she--may

have conceived a little affection as well as for myself.

My friend, Jack Belton, was excellent at all manner of flirtation,

and had an inimitable way of hanging sentimentally over a believing

young lady's chair, and quoting Byron, or even Shelly, and giving her

to know with all point and tenderness how, if

'----the sunbeams kiss the earth,

And the moonbeams kiss the sea,

What are all these kissings worth,

If _thou_ kiss not _me_?'

And Jack was always sketching or copying music for the girls about

the garrison--_i.e._, making the band-master do so, and passing it

off--like a rogue as he was--for his own. He was dazzled by Fanny

Clavering; but his surprise and chagrin were great, to find that,

when promenading the deck, she was quite as much enchanted with her

old friend Callum Dhu as with himself.

'A private!' muttered Jack, stroking his bandolined moustache;

'demme, the girl's mad!'

After a time, he discovered that she was more than a match for him--a

perfect flirt, who knew the language of the _fan_, as well as any

girl of Cadiz or Almeria.

In the evenings when they sat on the deck, viewing the scenery of the

Bosphorus, Jack was always by Fanny's side, watching her bright and

beautiful face, and her sparkling eyes, that glanced waggishly

upward, from under the prettiest of pink parasols with a long wavy

fringe. Here would this coquettish Fanny deal her battery of smiling

shots and wicked shells alternately at Jack Belton and my Highland

follower, whom on some cunning pretence or other she contrived to

keep pretty constantly about her; and on whom, to the unbounded wrath

of Jack, she gave the especial care of her little Maltese spaniel--a

silky-haired and Lillyputian cur, with a pug nose, a snappish eye, a

silver collar and bell, all being the parting gift of some forgotten

lover in the Rifles at Valetta.

Seated thus, with Jack by her side, and the handsome 'Callum in

attendance,' as she phrased it, Fanny would speak to the latter of

his home, of the Highlands, of Glen Ora, and poor Callum's honest

heart was so completely won, that the memory of his dead Minnie was

forgotten. He could have worshipped this beautiful English lady who

knew so much about the clans and of other times, when that oppression

of the poor, which now crieth to God for vengeance, was unknown in

the land of the Gael; and who said so many kind and bewildering

things to him; and though his plainness, his honesty, and manliness

gained her respect--even as the heavy debt she owed him won her

gratitude--his handsome face and noble figure, with his sincere eye

and respectful manner, made so favourable an impression on the

brilliant Fanny, that though making in her little heart, a vow for

the thousandth time, not to coquette with the poor private soldier,

she could not resist it; and the end of it all was, that the biter

was bitten; for the dazzling Fanny fell in love with my henchman,

even as the friend of my "Lady Lee," the proud and imperious Orelia

Payne, did with her corporal of Dragoons.

Though a coarse red coat covered the broad breast of Callum Dhu,

Fanny felt all his sterling worth, over the artificial flutterers who

had surrounded her so long; and his superior officer, the fashionable

Jack Belton, informed me with undisguised chagrin, 'that while my

demmed fellow was present on deck, Miss Clavering seemed to have eyes

for no one else.'

The end of all this coquetting, promenading, piano-playing, and

music-turning, et cetera was, that our lively flirt consented one

evening to become the lawful spouse of John Belton, Esq., of Her

Majesty's --th Highlanders, but--after secretly pounding enough out

of her many thousands to buy her Celtic lover a commission in the

Turkish contingent--she levanted before daybreak, and was privately

married at the chapel of the British Embassy to--_Callum Dhu_!

This little mésalliance rather soured Sir Horace, and intensely

disgusted Jack, who quite forgot the fag-end of his mess-room ditty,

_anent_ being 'sad about trifles,' and started in a rage to join our

first battalion at Balaclava.

I have procured sick-leave, as the doctors aver that the devil of a

bullet made such a hole in my side that nothing will close or cure it

but my native Highland air.

I am to return home--home to Glen Ora in the _Fairy Bell_, the yacht

of Sir Horace, and _we_ are to be married in due time after our

arrival; for the worthy baronet, after mature consideration, was

pleased to reiterate his consent, without apparently caring a jot

about what that bugbear 'the world,' would say.

The old M.P. had met this personage--'the world,' in Parliament, and

in the borough for which he is Member; he had met him at Almack's; at

Crockford's; at Véry's; at the Opera; at Meurice's in Paris, and he

marvelled in secret what this awful inquisitor, whose whereabouts is

so dangerously vague, would say to the fact of his only daughter and

heiress not becoming the wife of any of the _blasé_ Honourables or

sporting Peers to whom gossip had alternately assigned her; but

simply plain Mrs. Allan Mac Innon, the wife of a hero, with only Her

Majesty's 6_s._ 6_d._ per diem.

He took another glass of Moselle; pondered a little, and thought it

was all for the best.

And so think I! With Laura for my bride, I would not envy Alexander

of all the Russias on his throne.

The hearths of the people shall again be lit in Glen Ora; from the

wilds of the Far West I will call the survivors home; and there, at

least, the image of God shall no longer give place to grouse and

deer--to sheep and dogs!

Reality never equalled anticipation, say casuists and moralists; but

those fellows seldom smell gunpowder, and moreover never saw, never

loved or were beloved by such a girl as Laura Everingham.

THE END

BRADBURY, EVANS, AND CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.