Chapter VIII: Part 8

The Church of the Catacombs is adorned with seven golden domes, and seven golden spires, which are connected with gilt chains, now glittering with the first bright rays of the rising sun, seeming to shed a blaze of glory over the holy edifice, as the orisons of the morning worshippers rose towards heaven. Upwards of five hundred feet above the river, rises the dome of the belfry, adorned with Ionic columns and Corinthian pilasters, to which all Russians accord the greatest admiration and praise.

As the doors of the church were thrown open, the eager pilgrims rushed in to throw themselves before the shrines of their favourite saints, whose pictures hung over their altars; though the least devout among them would have been scandalised had an image or figure stood there instead.

As the first deep and solemn tones of the sacred harmony in the service rose towards heaven, Ivan and his companions entered the cathedral, and following the example of the multitude, knelt before one of the altars; but there was an almost imperceptible curl of contempt on the lip of Javis as they did so, even the boy seemed scarcely so devout as the long pilgrimage he had undertaken would have led one to suppose he should be.

When the service was concluded, the pilgrims bought tapers at the porch of the church, and forming a procession in a long line, descended a wooden stair-case of many steps to the mouth of the catacombs, down each side of which were arranged an uninterrupted line of kneeling devotees, of the most wretched appearance. The procession halted, as the first part reached the entrance of the excavated passages of the catacombs, the priest preceding them; they then slowly and reverently entered the subterraneous vaults, the roof blackened with the smoke of thousands, and tens of thousands of the candles of the faithful, which had burnt there on previous years.

On each side, in niches in the walls, were placed in open coffins, the bodies of those, who dying in the odour of sanctity, have been canonised for their pious acts and thoughts. There unburied they remain, enveloped in wrappers of cloth, and silk, highly ornamented with gold and silver embroidery, that their fellow mortals who come to them for intercession, seeing their honours after death, may study to imitate them in the purity of their lives; while their spirits, having ascended into heaven, are devoutly believed to exercise an influence with the Father and Son. Their names are written on their breasts, and many have also a history of their virtuous actions, while their stiffened hands placed before them in the attitude of prayer, receive the kisses of the pilgrims, though few perchance could decypher even the names of those they worshipped.

Further on, they reached a passage in which was a range of small windows, where men had, with their own hands, built themselves in with stones against the wall, leaving open only a small hole to receive their food; dying with the insane thought, that they were doing their Maker a good service. Before each of the windows of those fanatics' last dwelling, now their tomb, knelt some bigoted and devoted worshipper, firmly believing that their self-immolation and unnatural death, had purchased for them everlasting life, and place, and power, among the spirits of the blessed.

Though it may seem incredible, yet so it was, that perchance not even one of that vast crowd had any just or clear notions of the tenets of the very religion they professed; for so ignorant are the Russian peasants, that the most absurd and superstitious legends find fall credit in their minds. Of the attributes of the Supreme Being, the majority have but the slightest conception, regarding him in the light of one inferior to their Emperor, and neither respecting nor fearing him so much. So completely does the despotic influence of the Czar extend over the greater mass of the people, that they have been taught to look upon him as one sent with divine authority, to rule over their lives and property, against whom it would be the most dreadful impiety to rebel; and for this end has their religion, and every feeling, and sentiment of their minds, been made subservient. Yet these are the people, whose rulers profess to extend the benign light of Christianity, and the blessings of civilisation, among the nations of the East!

Leaving the church, as they walked through the crowds, Javis adroitly made inquiries among the peasant pilgrims, as to when a party was likely to start for the west confines of the Empire and gladly found that a band was about to return towards the frontier of Bessarabia the very next morning. With his usual tact and cleverness, he soon discovered where the party was lodging, introducing himself among the peasants, and gaining their good will. They therefore gladly received him and his friends among their company.

The rest of the day was of necessity spent, in their character of pilgrims, in visiting the churches and most interesting sights of that gorgeous city, though gladly did they prepare to accompany the party of self-satisfied pilgrims, who were returning the same way they wished to pursue.

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END OF VOLUME ONE.

Volume 2, Chapter I.

Thus far, Ivan had been successful in the accomplishment of his journey, though there still remained many difficulties to overcome. These, however, were lessened by the presence of mind and cleverness which Javis at all times displayed. He seemed too to be possessed of noble and generous sentiments, so that, notwithstanding their difference in rank, Ivan began to feel for him a sincere friendship, independently of the gratitude due to his assistance and attention.

A change, however, had come over him, for though active and intelligent as ever, he was no longer the gay light hearted being, he had at first appeared. It was in vain, that Ivan endeavoured to discover the cause: Javis would start at times, and walk on muttering to himself, as if some important subject occupied his thoughts: his laugh was hollow, and his smile forced and painful. Young Conrin often turned an inquiring glance towards him, but seemed also equally puzzled to account for the alteration. He too had won much upon Ivan's regard, by his gentle and unassuming behaviour, and by his evident desire to please his self-constituted masters. It was with much regret, therefore, on the morning of their departure, and while Javis had gone out to make some necessary purchases for their journey, that Ivan called the boy to him, to bid him farewell.

"We must now part, Conrin. Believe me that I do so with regret; but we return not to the place whence we came, while you must go back to your parents and friends. Here, take this small sum of money, it is all I can spare, but you may require it on your journey."

While he spoke, the tears fell fast from the boy's eyes. "Alas! why are you so ready to dismiss me from your company, Sir?" he said, putting aside the money. "Have I done aught to offend you? I have no home--no friends to return to--I have quitted all, and for ever! Oh, let me accompany you then as your servant, and I will serve you faithfully and truly."

"But we go far from hence, boy," said Ivan; "and perchance, you might never again see your own native Russia."

"It matters not, Sir, to what part of the country, or to what part of the world you go. Whither you go, there I will follow you. But in pity, dismiss not an orphan child, who claims your protection."

Seeing that Ivan still seemed to hesitate, he added, "Think not that I am a serf, escaping from bondage: no, I am free-born, and free alone will I live; for no proud master shall ever claim me as his slave." The boy's eyes flashed with a look of proud independence as he spoke.

"But, young Conrin," answered Ivan, "I am as you see, but a poor old man, without the means of supporting you, or of giving you employment fit for your youth."

"I seek not the wages of a servant," answered Conrin; "perchance too, I may find the opportunity of serving you. Try me, at least, and if I prove useless, you can but dismiss me at last."

"But suppose, that though we are old men, we may lead you into far and strange countries, where you may be exposed to hardships, under which your tender years may sink? You will then repent that you followed us," said Ivan.

"I fear no danger that you can lead me into," answered the boy; "and am too well accustomed to hardships to sink under them. Besides, I am older than I appear, and understand full well the task I undertake."

Ivan still hesitated to comply with young Conrin's extraordinary fancy, as it seemed, when Javis entered, and the boy instantly referred his cause to him. Javis, without hesitation, seconded his petition, when Ivan, at length, consented to his accompanying them.

"Oh, trust me, Sirs," he said, "that you will not find me wanting in aught that becomes a servant. You know not how my heart is lightened by your kindness."

The pleasure which beamed in the speaker's eyes attested the truth of his words; yet, it had before occurred to Ivan, and now did so again, that the boy had seen through their disguise from the very first; and he was not without a suspicion, that the boy followed them thus pertinaciously, as a spy sent to betray them at the end of their journey, and in the very moment when they might have congratulated themselves on having effected their escape. Ivan knew how varied and constant are the devices made use of in Russia to entrap the unwary, and to shew that the power of that vast engine of despotism, the secret police, can extend to the very confines of the Empire.

At length, however, he dismissed the thought as contradicting the stamp which nature sets on the countenances of her children; and while looking at the boy's face, he felt convinced he was incapable of such treachery.

That Conrin was not deceived by the disguise the fugitives had assumed, Ivan felt convinced, as he at all times addressed him in a tone and manner of respect that he would scarcely have paid to a poor peasant pilgrim, although children are early taught in Russia to treat age with respect and attention. He never, also, attempted to intrude into their presence, keeping aloof till called to approach nearer, though, several times, Ivan had discovered, as he thought, the boy's eyes fixed on him with an earnest and inquiring gaze, as if he wished to read his very thoughts. But again, he fancied that in that idea he must have been mistaken. He saw clearly, that at all events, there was something which the boy wished to conceal, and whatever was the cause of his attachment, he felt gratified in the knowledge that there was one more human being who could care for him, in the world.

We will not accompany the travellers each day in their long and tedious journey, in company with the returning pilgrims, of whom, in a short time, they became very weary, so much so, that Javis was of opinion they might now venture to travel on at a faster speed, by themselves. For this purpose, he left the party, as they encamped, in search of some of the numerous wandering bands of his people, whom he had heard were in the neighbourhood.

He returned the next morning before break of day, with the intelligence that he had procured a telga, which was in waiting a short distance in advance, to which he led Ivan and their young companion, before the pilgrims had begun their march. These were, accordingly, soon left a long way behind. Our travellers were fortunate in procuring a constant change of horses and vehicles, from the friendly tribes of Zingani, or from peasants with whom they had communication, so that they rapidly approached the confines of the Empire, to cross which would prove another difficulty, and demand a change of disguise.

Since leaving the band of pilgrims, Ivan and his companions had kept a south-westerly course, as much as possible, by cross-roads and bye-paths, both to avoid observation, and because, in the more unfrequented parts of the country, Javis had a greater chance of encountering some of the wandering tribes of his people. Indeed, from information he had received, he expected to find a party of them encamped in the neighbourhood of the Pruth. The travellers were now approaching that river, where it divides the principality of Moldavia from the Russian province of Bessarabia, in which they now were; their greatest hazard being in passing the Russian posts on the frontier, though they had yet other dangers to encounter, from the numerous spies sent out by the Imperial government, who exercise complete influence in the principality, to the very borders of the Turkish provinces.

As they journeyed on, they observed a figure before them, jumping and singing as he went, now and then stopping to look around him, and then again pursuing his extraordinary antics. When he saw the party approaching, instead of endeavouring to escape, by increasing his speed, he turned round to meet them. In this ragged, half-witted creature, fantastically dressed in coloured rags and tatters, Javis recognised one of his own race. A few words from Javis, in the Rommany language, brought the poor being directly to their side. He gave them to understand that an encampment of his people was not far off, adding that he would lead them to the spot.

As they came in sight of the encampment, several fierce-looking men of the Zingani, on seeing strangers approach, rushed out with threatening gestures; but when Javis called to them in their own language, they gave him a hearty, though a rude welcome, and forthwith ushered the strangers within the circle of their camp.

Here all the people of the tribe gathered round the travellers, telling them that they had been already informed of their approach, and were prepared to offer them assistance. Javis, in return, explained the wishes of his friend and himself, and the necessity of proceeding without delay. Several men at once volunteered to assist them in crossing the river at an unguarded spot, and to be answerable for their safety, on condition of their assuming the dress and character of their own people, as they were in the custom of communicating with others of their tribe in Moldavia. They also advised them to continue the same disguise till they had arrived in the Turkish provinces, as numerous tribes of their people were in the country, who would assist them. Such a dress would, moreover, exempt them from the attack of the numerous robbers who infested the land, but who would not deem such poor-looking wayfarers worth pillaging.

To this proposition Ivan gladly assented; and, after a plentiful supply of provisions had been placed before them, Javis set about arranging the necessary dresses; the Zingani treating Ivan and his youthful companion with the greatest respect.

While engaged in this employment, the brow of Javis grew more clouded and uneasy than before. As he passed Ivan, he would turn a quick uncertain glance towards him, his countenance assuming an expression as if a sudden pang had tormented him, and then he would endeavour to look calm and composed as before.

Ivan, overcome with the fatigue of his journey, gladly accepted the offer made by the chief of the tribe to rest in his tent, where throwing himself on a heap of skins, he was soon wrapt in deep sleep, it yet wanting some time before it would be safe to venture across the Pruth.

The dark shades of evening were fast coming on, and the sky gave threatening warnings of a rough tempestuous night, when Javis, unperceived, as he thought, by any of the people, stole from the camp. He looked tremblingly behind him, but saw no one following, and again pursued his way. He hastened onwards at a fast rate, then stopped and hesitated; fear and doubt were working in his breast. At last he mustered all his courage, and again ran quickly on. His purpose he scarce dared utter to himself. Could he, the hitherto brave, the true, the most loved of all his tribe, be guilty of treachery?

The long-threatened storm now broke with sudden fury; the lightning flashed brightly, and the wind loudly howled. Javis kept up his speed. The Russian guard-house was in sight, when a flash brighter and more dazzling than before darted from the clouds. For a moment his eyes were blinded. He looked up, and fancied that a tall and majestic form rose before him. The attitude of this phantom of his brain was threatening; the countenance fierce and angry.

He beheld before him, as he believed, the spirit of his tribe, such as it had been described to him. He thought a voice, as if borne on the blast of the tempest, uttered these awful words:

"Cursed is he who shall hinder the friend of our tribe on his way; doubly cursed the betrayer of the confiding one, and thrice cursed the perjurer."

The youth's eyes rolled wildly; his heart throbbed with violent pulsation; his limbs trembled. He could not move. He fell prostrate to the earth, where he lay for some time--he knew not how long. A gentle touch on his shoulder recalled him to consciousness.

"Rise!" said a gentle voice, yet trembling as if with alarm; "rise! you could not do the vile deed. Thank the great spirit that you have been saved so cursed an act--an act so contrary to your nature. Think you thus to have won a maiden's love? She would have doubly hated you. Rise, and return to the camp, and henceforward atone by fidelity, for your thoughts of treachery. Guard with your own life his you would have taken, and in time the curse, which hangs over you for your oath broken in thought, may be averted."

The speaker turned, and flew towards the camp, when Javis arose, and threw himself on his knees on the ground.

"Great spirit," he cried, "I will obey you! Take but this heavy curse from off me, and I will follow this stranger wheresoever he listeth to go. Never will I quit him until I see him in safety in his native land. Though my heart consume with hopeless love, yet will I endure all for his sake. Let this heavy trial gain me pardon."

Javis arose, and fled back to the camp.

Ivan, unconscious of the danger and treachery he had escaped, awoke and came forth from his tent; soon after which Javis, having thrown aside all marks of age, appeared in his proper character, and Ivan gladly followed his example. Returning again to the tent, he equipped himself as a young Gipsy, Conrin having also assumed the same character.

When all was prepared, the fugitives set forward with their Gipsy guides towards the banks of the river. The weather was still dark and stormy, and the wind whistled among the few straggling trees which grew on the shore. Here and there a star glimmered forth, as the dark masses of clouds were rapidly driven across the sky. The water rushed by in turbid eddies; and for a moment the wild scene was lit up by flashes of lightning, to be again left in total darkness.

Descending a steep bank, the guides launched a small boat which had been concealed among some thick underwood, and the travellers, taking their seats, pushed off into the stream. The Gipsies, however, well knew their course, and, as they believed that none of the Russian guards were likely, on such a night, to venture away from their posts, seemed free from apprehension.

It was thus, amid storm and tempest, that Ivan bade farewell for ever to the inhospitable territories of Russia, leaving behind him few regrets, and looking forward to his future path with enthusiastic ardour and confidence.

The Gipsies pulled their slight bark boldly and safely across the boiling stream. While Ivan landed on the opposite shore, a vivid flash followed by a long continued roar of thunder, gave him the last glimpse of Russia, as he and his two companions stopped for an instant to gaze at it without speaking.

The guides now took a direction across the wild and uncultivated ground, which extends for a considerable distance along the shores of the Pruth. No rain had fallen to impede their progress, and with rapid strides they pursued their way, Javis assisting young Conrin, who could scarcely keep pace with the party. They hastened on thus, in hope of reaching some shelter, before the expected rain should fall, and having travelled some miles, the barking of dogs gave notice that they were approaching a human habitation. A loud whistle in return was given by the guides, when the fierce bark was changed into a cry of welcome, and the fugitives found themselves at the entrance of another Gipsy encampment. The chief came forward to meet them, and as soon as he had heard their story from Javis, he received them with a courteous welcome.

When the guides were about to return, Ivan offered them some remuneration for their trouble. "No," said they, refusing it, "we take nothing from the friends of our people, and from one who is so highly esteemed by our brother near Moscow. It is from our enemies and from those who oppress us, that we exact tribute; and when they do not give we take. May a prosperous journey be your lot."

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

Contrary to the expectations of the travellers, they had no sooner reached the encampment than the sky grew clear, the stars shone out brightly, the wind subsided, and the summer storm had passed away. They were glad to find rest and shelter in the friendly tents of these wild people, whom, however dishonest they might be towards others, Ivan had found faithful and true to him. One of their small skin-covered tents were prepared for Ivan's accommodation, into which he was invited to enter, and repose himself. Young Conrin, seating himself at the entrance, prepared to watch his master while he slept; the boy, however, over-rated his own powers, for while he fancied that he kept guard, a deep slumber stole on his weariness.

Ivan slept soundly for some hours, fatigued as he was with the exertions of the last few days and the anxiety of his escape. As he was first returning to consciousness, the curtains of his small tent being closed, and a gentle light streaming through them, he fancied, or it might have been a waking dream, that a strain of music fell on his ear. As he listened, he was lulled into that half-dreaming, half-waking state, so delightful after the heavy slumber induced by fatigue; yet the syllables sounded distinctly, and he feared to stir, lest the sweet tones should prove but a dreamy illusion of the ear.

The words were to the following effect, sung in a clear rich voice, which Ivan fancied that he could recognise as that of young Conrin.

Far as the waves can bear
O'er the deep sea;
Far as the breezes blow
O'er vale and lea;
In whate'er lands you roam,
Leaving my father's home,
I'll follow thee.

O'er the blue mountain's brow,
Joyous and free;
E'en where the desert plain
Bears not a tree,
And the dark simoon's breath,
Comes bearing sudden death,
I'll follow thee.

Where, in the forest, waves
Many a tree,
To those cold regions which
Day cannot see;
Over the arid sand
Of Afric's scorching land,
I'll follow thee.

To the proud battle-field
Bounding with glee,
Bearing thy banner high,
As the foes flee;
Or mid the raging strife,
Where fierce men seek thy life,
I'll follow thee.

In the dark prison hold
Near thee I'll be;
For thy lov'd service gives
Freedom to me:
Should grief or sickness come,
And when death is thy doom,
I'll follow thee.

[See Note]

No sooner had the strain ceased, than Ivan awoke to perfect consciousness, and springing from his couch, went forth from the tent, where he found Javis and Conrin waiting his presence, and a blush stole on the boy's cheeks at having been detected in his musical performance.

"Ah, my young page!" said Ivan, "were you the good spirit which first aroused me from slumber with your sweet strains? I knew not of your vocal skill; but now that I have discovered it, I may often call upon you to soothe my spirit when oppressed."

"Ah! gladly would I sing to you the live long day, if I thought it would please you, Sir," answered the boy.

"Indeed, it does please me; but how came you possessed of this art, the most prized in the sendee of a page?" asked Ivan.

"I lived with those who gained their livelihood by it; but I could never sing for pay; my voice is dumb if my words flow not from the heart."

"Well, boy, I hope often to hear you; and now you see that I am not the decrepit old man I first seemed, still do you wish to follow my fortunes, knowing that they may be perilous ones? But I would not command you to leave me."

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

"Then, my good page, I hope we may not part for a long time; and I trust, moreover, that in my country you may find a home you will love more than the one you have left. But we must away on our road towards that loved land."

The hospitable chief of the tribe, as they are here called, Tzygani, undertook to pass the travellers on from camp to camp of the numerous gangs of his people, (who wander through Moldavia), till they could reach the Danube, where it passes the Turkish provinces.

Ivan and his two companions, much refreshed by their night's rest, after bidding farewell to the hospitable chief, set forward on the horses he had provided for them. They were accompanied by a guide, to shew them the way across the country, until they should again fall in with another camp of their people. In this way, they quickly travelled through the principality.

Moldavia, which formed part of the ancient kingdom of Dacia, for a long time groaned under the iron rule of the Turks, until freed by the victorious arms of Russia, when the people began to rejoice at the prospect of the amelioration of the country, placed under the benign protection of a Christian power. Alas! they found to their cost, that they had only changed masters, and that their new protectors were determined to rivet still more firmly the chains which enslaved them, being yet more determinately opposed to liberal institutions, and all general improvement. The wretched peasants had no sooner been relieved from their Turkish masters, by whom they had been pillaged and exhausted, than they were reduced to a state of absolute starvation by the Russian army of occupation, which took up its position in the country. Already scarcely able to find food for themselves, their corn and meat were forcibly torn from their grasp to feed their rapacious guests, and to supply provisions for the army engaged in the war against the Turks. Even a supply of corn, sent them by the benevolent inhabitants of the neighbouring Austrian provinces, was seized by the Russian soldiers, after crossing the frontier, thus depriving the famishing peasants of their last resource. On no side could they turn for assistance or sympathy, while, sinking under their misfortune, thousands died from famine and disease, the rest of Europe being kept in utter ignorance of the foul and unwarranted tyranny exercised over them.

So brutalised, indeed, have the lower orders become by a long state of vassalage, and utter insecurity of property, as to be almost insensible to the hardships of their condition, while the upper classes are most lamentably demoralised.

In consequence of this state of things, the travellers found great parts of the country an almost entire wilderness, only slight patches of cultivation appearing here and there, though the soil seemed rich and productive. They passed but few miserable villages, and those far distant from each other.

The peasants have a wild and savage appearance, increased by their black hair streaming loosely over their countenances, and by their sheepskin habits and caps, with sandals of goat skin fastened round the leg by a rope. The women are still more wretched and squalid. At each quiet and solitary farm house, at which our fugitives stopped, the poor people received them kindly, though they appeared to be in hourly alarm, from the fierce bands of robbers who were scouring the country in every direction, levying their lawless contributions alike on the peaceable villagers, and the unprotected travellers, and not unfrequently adding murder to robbery.

The paths traversed by Ivan and his companions scarcely deserved the name of roads, though the light low cart Javis had procured, carried them safely and quickly over them. Several rivers and streams interrupted their course. Some of the latter were nearly dry, and the first they passed in boats, with small parties of gipsies, whom they fell in with, and who accompanied them on purpose. As they approached the broad Danube, they proceeded on foot across the country, by paths scarcely trodden, except by their wandering guides. It was with considerable difficulty they gained the river, passing over a long distance of low marshy shore, which here forms its banks, and rousing from their rest the pelican and other wild fowl of this desert region.

On a calm and lovely night, they crossed the rapid, but smooth stream, in a boat, pulled by their friends, the Tzygani; and, in about an hour, landed in the Turkish province of Bulgaria. The spot at which they struck the Danube was considerably above the Walachian town of Galatz, near the Turkish Hirsova, situated on the summit of precipitous rocks close to the river. They did not venture to enter that now ruinous place, as most of the Turkish towns taken by the Russians in the late war, were still held by their troops.

The direct road of the travellers now lay along the southern bank of the Danube for a considerable distance, to Silistria, a wretched town with a fort, also destroyed by the Russians, who yet retained a garrison there. They therefore avoided it, keeping across the country to the left of the road.

The hamlets, through which they passed, consisted of about fifty houses, each formed of wicker work plastered over, and kept neat and clean within. The men were clad in brown sheepskin caps, jackets of undyed brown wool, white cloth trowsers, and sandals of raw leather; while the women, who appeared without hesitation before the strangers, were handsome and neatly dressed, all wearing trinkets, the girls having their heads uncovered, and their hair braided and ornamented with different coins.

Most of the villages were inhabited by Turks, except the first at which they arrived. Here our fugitives were fortunate in finding that the greater number of the simple and industrious people were Christians, by whom they were kindly and hospitably received. The villagers seemed to vie with each other in shewing them attention, insisting on their resting, and taking such refreshment as they could produce, so that in a short time they were again ready to proceed on their road.

They here again laid aside the Gipsy dress and appearance, and assumed a costume more approaching the European, and which would procure them more respect than they could expect to receive in the other. They also obtained horses to finish the journey across the Bulgarian Mountains, which form part of the great Haemus chain, to Varna, the port of their destination, expecting there to find some vessel by which they could reach any other Turkish port in communication with Circassia.

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Note. The above lines have been set to music by Miss L. Kingston, and published by D'Almaine and Co.

Volume 2, Chapter II.

Notwithstanding the heat of the noontide sun, which shone forth with the unobscured splendour of a southern clime, our hero and his two followers, who had been travelling since the early morn, still kept the road, eager to reach the coast they were now approaching.

Mountain after mountain, hill after hill, had been left behind, which at a distance had appeared so steep and lofty as to be almost insurmountable. Thus, in the ordinary affairs of life, difficulties which threaten to impede our progress when viewed in long perspective, and from which the faint-hearted turn back in despair, when fairly encountered and grappled with, may often be overcome with half the labour and pain we contemplated.

They had just gained the brow of a lofty hill, up which they had been toiling, when a long and glittering line of silvery brightness met their view.

"The sea! the sea!" exclaimed Ivan, as for a moment the party reined in their steeds, to gaze with interest and curiosity on that longed for sign of the near accomplishment of their weary journey. "Onward, my friends, onward!" he added, setting spurs to his horse, impatient to reach that liquid road which now alone separated him from his country.

As they rode quickly on, by degrees the line grew broader and broader, till a wide expanse of sea lay before them, heaving in gentle undulations, and shining like a sheet of polished silver.

Here and there, the tiny white sail of some light caique seemed like a sea bird floating calmly on the waters, and farther off, the loftier sails of larger vessels, seen through the haze caused by the heat, resembled thin and shifting pillars of white smoke. All nature seemed to slumber. Not a human being, nor a dumb animal was to be seen abroad. The sails suspended in festoons from the yards of the few vessels floating in the bay, hung down without moving, nor were the crews stirring. Not a boat was visible. All were taking their rest, till the great heat of the day should have passed.

As the travellers entered the small sea port of Varna, the streets also were dull, and deserted; and it was only when they reached the neighbourhood of the few cafenehs, of which the place boasted, that some signs of life were perceived; and, even here, few of the inmates had as yet roused themselves from their mid-day sleep. At the barber's shop also, the loquacious and vivacious operator might be seen just awaking from his slumbers, to welcome his customers, as, one by one, they lazily strolled to his door, either to submit their heads to his care, or to converse with his friends, or with any strangers who could supply the place of newspapers.

Our travellers first proceeded to the caravanserai, to which they had been directed, to leave their horses to be returned to their owners; and they then repaired to the principal cafeneh, to refresh themselves with food and rest.

As they entered, a few of the occupants roused themselves to gaze at the strangers; and in a short time, the coffee-house was again filled with guests. Some, forming knots, filled their chibouques, and as they smoked the fragrant weed, discussed various subjects in a grave and solemn tone. Here a group of listeners formed a circle round one of those story tellers, to be found in every Turkish coffee-house, intently hearing the wonderful tales he narrated, and expressing their satisfaction by low exclamations of applause.

Ivan and his companions had not been long seated, when a smoking dish of pilau and other Turkish dainties were placed before them.

While he and his friends were discussing their meal, a party of men had clustered near them; the sound of whose language, as he listened to their voices, made his heart beat with feelings of the most intense interest and delight. He drew in his breath with eagerness as he listened attentively. He could not be mistaken, they spoke in that language heard by him before, only from the mouth of one ardently loved--his mother. Those sounds struck a new chord in his feelings. It was his own native tongue. What a tumult of sensations did the words, simple as they were, raise in his bosom! He gasped, in his anxiety not to lose a syllable of the words which fell from the mouths of his newly-found countrymen. He could not remain quiet. He rose, and approached them. He could not withdraw his eyes from them, as he scanned the countenances of each to read their different characters. He longed to address them, but hung back hesitatingly, in fear of not finding suitable expressions. He understood all they said, and their conversation had become deeply interesting to him; but as he attempted to speak, his lips refused to give utterance to what he sought to say.

He returned to his seat in despair, but soon again arose, determining to address them. Words now flowed rapidly from his mouth. The Circassians started, as they first heard one dressed in the Frank costume, speaking their own language; but a smile of satisfaction lighted up their countenances as he continued. He told them that he was a Circassian, that he sought to reach his native land, in which all his hopes were centered--that he had long lived away from it, and knew not even its customs--that he had undergone many dangers and difficulties in approaching to that point--but that he had not further means to accomplish his purpose.

As he finished speaking, a rough weather-beaten man in the Turkish dress started up, exclaiming: "The way to get there is clear before you; for my vessel now rides in the bay, waiting only for a fair wind, or any wind at all, to sail direct for the coast. This good company is going with me, and by Allah! we will reach it safely, or never trust the Reis Mustapha, in spite of all the Russian fleets that may beset our course. May the Evil One possess them, and their mother's sons!"

Having thus delivered himself of his unusually long oration, he sat down; and a tall and venerable man, who appeared to be the chief of the party, rose to confirm his words.

"Whoever you may be, young stranger, who, though with a Frankish dress and appearance speak our language, and are as you say of our country, you shall be welcome to join our party; and if, with good intentions, you visit the land of the Atteghei, I will protect you from all dangers which may beset you, to the utmost of my power."

The speaker was dressed in the Circassian costume. He bore on his head a white turban. His long beard descended to his breast. He wore a flowing caftan of silk; and at his girdle, a cama or dagger, with a broad two-edged blade, and an ivory handle. His features were handsome, and his eyes sparkled with the fire and animation of youth as he spoke.

Ivan's heart bounded with joy and gratitude at his words; for one of the last, the greatest difficulties in the accomplishment of his undertaking, was overcome.

"Willingly do I embrace your valued offer," he said; "and I trust to be able to prove to you and all my countrymen that I go to Circassia for the purpose alone of aiding her cause. As yet, I am a man without a name, and without friends: but the time may come when I shall find both, and be able to show my gratitude for your generosity. Till then you must be content to remain in ignorance of my previous history. My first endeavour shall be, to gain a noble name by gallant deeds, and thus prove myself worthy of the race from whence I sprung. I will then seek a brave and honoured sire, who may not blush to own his son. Till I have accomplished my purpose, I have sworn to conceal my name from all. Know me, then, alone as `The Stranger.' I bring with me but my own willing arm, and two faithful followers."

"It is enough," replied the old man who had before spoken. "Nor has Hadji Guz Beg lived so few years in the world that he cannot read the countenances of men. To your's, young stranger, I can fully trust. In it I can read truth and courage. Say no more. I seek not to pry into your motives or private history. I have confidence in the one, and sure I am there is no disgrace in the other. You shall join us."

"I confidently put myself into your power," said Ivan. "You will thus be able to test my truth. For that of my followers I will be answerable."

Javis and young Conrin were now invited to join the party, with whom the former, in his usual manner, soon made himself acquainted.

It was arranged that, at dawn of the next morning, the Turkish Reis Mustapha should return to the cafeneh, to conduct Ivan and his followers aboard his vessel, when, if the wind proved favourable, they were to set sail immediately. Ivan was surprised at his good fortune in finding a vessel at Varna, bound for the Circassian coast, as he fully expected to be obliged to touch at several Turkish ports before he was successful in his search; but it proved that she had been driven, on her passage from the Bosphorus, by a violent gale of wind, thus far to the north, when she had been obliged to anchor to save herself from going ashore. A calm had succeeded the gale, which, most fortunately for Ivan, had detained her there for several days.

The principal person among the passengers was the Hadji Guz Beg, a celebrated Circassian leader, now returning from a pilgrimage which he had undertaken to Mecca, during a short interval of peace, which the Russians had, for their own sakes, afforded his country. He spoke much of the lands he had visited, and the adventures he had encountered, particularly of a visit he had paid to Mahomet Ali in Egypt, when his brother hero received him with affection and respect, urging him to remain some time with him. But news of the war in the Caucasus having been renewed had caused him to hurry back to partake in its dangers and excitement. None could look at the old warrior Hadji, without believing that he was possessed of the most indomitable spirit and heroic bravery. As we pursue our history, we shall have much more to say of him.

The party soon separated, to make the final preparations for their voyage. The indefatigable Javis set out to purchase dresses and other necessaries, nearly exhausting the remainder of their money. Ivan had determined to make his appearance on the Circassian shores in his native costume, throwing aside for ever all marks and remembrances of Russian thraldom. Conrin wished, also, to adopt the same style of dress, to which his master willingly needed: while Javis, who claimed no nation as his own, preferred the Turkish habit, as being suited to the language he spoke.

Javis returned late in the evening, bringing with him a sword of highly tempered Damascus steel, which he had obtained with great difficulty; a rifle and dagger for Ivan, and a brace of pistols for himself. He had procured, moreover, a handsome Circassian coat of dark cloth trimmed with silver, and a red cap, trimmed with fur, with other parts of the dress for his master, and a light-coloured tunic and vest, with a cloak for the page, for whom he also brought a sharp silver-mounted dagger and pistols.

It would be difficult to describe the feelings of satisfaction with which Ivan assumed the garb of his ancestors. In imagination, he fancied himself at the head of a faithful band of his tribe--if in reality he could claim the rank of leader--ready to rush down on the invaders of his paternal shores; he grasped his sword, gazing on it with a stern and determined eye, and internally vowing never to sheathe it, until they had been driven from the land, or to perish with it bravely in his hand. As he drew himself up to his full height, with eye dilated, thoughts abstracted from all present scenes, he looked in truth already the gallant and brave warrior he fancied himself.

So regardless was he of all around him, that he did not observe the glance with which his youthful follower, who had silently and unobserved entered the apartment, regarded him. The boy stood rivetted to the ground as he first caught sight of his master in his new costume; and had Ivan wished to know what effect he was likely to produce on others, he might have looked into the countenance of his page, when his vanity would have been fully satisfied.

Neither spoke for some time; but when Ivan at last perceived the youth, "Ah! Conrin," he cried, "are you come to welcome your master in the free garb of the mountains? Rejoice with me, that I no longer feel myself a slave and an alien in a land of tyranny; henceforward you will follow the fortunes of one determined to rise above the frowns of fate. Are you still resolved, boy, to share all the dangers and hardships I must encounter, to receive alone the slender reward I may be able to offer? Will you now quit me?"

"Oh, speak not thus, Sir," replied the boy; "where you go I will willingly follow, through all dangers, all hardships, even to death: that I may be only near you, to warn you of any threatened harm I may discover, is the utmost reward I seek for my poor services. To nurse you when wounded, to cheer your couch when you might be left to the heartless care of strangers, will be my anxious task. To accompany you on your excursions--to follow you to the field--to fight by your side-- to shield your life, will be my greatest happiness."

Carried away by his feelings, the boy clasped his hands with energy as he spoke; but in a moment he stopped in confusion, as if he had expressed more than he had intended.

Ivan looked at him with astonishment. "You are indeed a noble, gallant youth," said he, "though you claim not high birth or descent; I am happy in finding so faithful and true a friend. I could not, if I wished it now, send you back to your country, and much it would grieve my heart to part from you; but I will protect you while I live and have an arm to wield my sword. Wherever I go, you shall accompany me; but I fear that you will be exposed to many perils in my sendee; for, believe me, the enemies of my country will not be driven from their attempt, without a fierce and desperate struggle; and it may yet be many years before they are free."

"Oh, Sir, you know not the happiness your words cause in my breast," answered Conrin. "With you I shall laugh at all dangers and difficulties, and fear nothing that can happen to me."

"I know your regard, my good boy. Now, leave me to myself. I would be alone, to meditate on my undertaking. A few days more will carry us to those shores whence I wish never to return."

As the page withdrew, he cast a glance of affection at his master, and Ivan sunk again into the train of thought from which he had been aroused.

At length he rose, and wandered forth by himself, not feeling inclined for the company even of his faithful attendants. He climbed to the summit of the half ruined citadel of the town, and looked forth anxiously on the broad expanse of ocean which lay calm and unruffled at his feet, longing eagerly for a breeze, to fill the sails of the bark which was to carry him and his fortunes to death or victory. But not a breath fanned his cheeks as he waited, long watching, till he saw the sun descend over the land of his destination, in a broad flame of glory, tinging the whole sea with a yellow glow.

On every side, the fortifications were in a state of ruin and dilapidation, owing to the severe and protracted siege the town had sustained from the Russians, till it was traitorously delivered into their hands by that execrable monster, Usef Pacha. [Vide Spenser.]

Rousing himself, he returned to the cafeneh, where he found young Conrin anxiously awaiting his arrival. The boy looked sad and melancholy, till he saw his master's countenance wearing a more serene expression than before, when his features were lit up with pleasure, and he followed him into the house, where they found the Hadji, the captain of the zebeque, and the rest of his passengers.

The Hadji, on first glancing towards Ivan, as he entered in his national costume, scarcely knew him, but no sooner did he recognise him, than he rushed forward with outstretched arms to embrace him.

"Ah, my son," he cried, "I now recognise in you a true scion of the noble race of the _Atteghei_; [the name the Circassians call themselves] and welcome shall you be to join, with your youthful arm, in our struggle for independence. Bismillah! with a few hundred such youths as you at my back, I would take every cursed Russian fort on our coast, may the Evil One possess them! You, perchance, have no father; I will be to you as one, and you shall be to me as a son. I will protect you from all who shall dare to oppose you, so fear not."

"I would wish for no more valiant protector, noble Hadji," replied Ivan, "and gladly, in all things, will I follow your advice, and profit by your experience. Under your guidance, I trust soon to gain that renown after which I thirst, and to shew myself no unworthy child of the Atteghei."

"You speak well, young man," replied the Hadji; "I have grown too old not to boast a little; and you need have no fear of not gaining credit under my standard. Bismillah! the fana Moscov well know the sight of it. I will shew you what fighting is in a few days, with the blessing of Allah!"

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

At the first streak of dawn, Ivan started up from the carpet on which he had passed the night, at one end of the divan, summoning Javis and his page, who came the moment he heard his master's voice. The Hadji, and the rest of the party quickly followed his example, and were met at the door of the cafeneh by the Reis, who came in haste to inform them that a breeze, light, though favourable for their voyage, had sprung up.

They rowed off into the bay, where the light zebeque lay at anchor, with her sails loosened, and were quickly on board. The anchor was tripped, her head gradually paid off from the wind, and calmly and slowly she glided from the shores of Turkey.

Far in the distance appeared the blue and indistinct ridges of the Balcan mountains; before them, the quiet sea; while around passed many of the primitive looking fishing boats, and small coasting vessels, skimming over the waters, their crews habited in picturesque dresses, and gaudy-coloured turbans. No sooner were they under weigh, than the devout Mahometans of the party knelt for the performance of morning prayer, while Ivan, following their example, offered up his thanks to Heaven for his escape from so many and imminent dangers.

Volume 2, Chapter III.

For several days did the light zebeque, which bore our hero and his fortunes towards his native land, glide calmly and securely over the unruffled surface of the blue and shining waters, without encountering any of those violent, but short lived, tempests for which the Euxine is so noted; or, what was still more to be dreaded by the voyagers, without meeting any of the Russian cruisers. All on board were congratulating themselves on the calmness of the sea, and the favourable weather, which seemed to promise a prosperous termination to their voyage, when they were doomed to experience how uncertain and changeable are all things here below.

The wind, which had hitherto blown gently in their favour, now treacherously shifted round to the north-east, while dark lowering clouds appeared in the horizon ahead. The breeze came at first in fitful and strong gusts, so suddenly commencing, that it scarcely allowed time to the slow-moving Turkish seamen to take in their canvass, ere the light vessel heeled over to the strength of the blast, but as they clewed up the sails she again righted.