be some safety in a multitude; retreat was impossible, and I rode straight up to the largest tent. Dismounting, I desired one of the Arabs to lead about my horse to cool, and then asked for a light for my pipe, and lay down upon the tent-carpet. The scene was a very picturesque one; high mountains frowned over the silvery sands; the smugglers gathered round the door of the tent, their shawl girdles stuck full of pistols and yataghans, and the dew standing on their shaggy brows and moustaches; the tents, the boats, the bright blue sea, and a glorious moon shining over all, formed a picture on which I gazed earnestly, as it might be for the last time. I knew if they robbed they would murder me also, in order that I might not 'peach upon their haunts, and yet, under these pleasant impressions, I lay smoking my pipe, as calmly as ever I did under the shelter of the English flag. Three most sinister-looking ruffians, after a long consultation, now approached me. They all squinted violently, so that they might have seemed to have only three eyes among them, only, that each time I looked, I saw the eye in a different ball. These were now all looking in six different ways on the gold tassel of my sword-knot; at length one of them asked me, “what brought me there at that hour of the night?" and for a moment the reply rose to my lips, that I was come to make arrangements for buying silk, which would have at once secured me safety and popularity. A moment's reflection saved me from making use of a false plea; those old crusading shores seemed to look reproachfully on the very thought. I said I was an English traveller, and that my servants were following me. The Arab shook his head; but, at that moment, a young Syrian entered the tent, and, to my agreeable surprise, accosted me in French. He said very courteously that I was not aware of the danger I was in, and that he would advise me to remain there till morning; "what guard have you?" he added, "or on what protection do you rely?"—" On the name of Englishman,” I replied; "my country is known never to let an injury pass unnoticed; if, as you suggest, I should be murdered, it will be known at Beyrout to-morrow, and a garrison will be placed here, which would spoil your trade." "Do you know," said the Syrian, “that on the road you are about to travel, a young Frenchman was murdered only last week? Be advised by me, and stay here until morning." "I am much obliged for your friendly warning," said I, "but I must proceed; the Frenchman you speak of was unarmed; I shan't die alone, you may depend upon it." I now mounted my horse, and, as I gathered up my reins, the three Arabs placed themselves in my path. I knew these people well enongh to be convinced that my only chance of escape now lay in resolution. I said to the Syrian, "The first man that puts out his hand dies as surely as I live." The moonlight glimmered on the barrel of my pistol; the Syrian spoke a few hurried words, a whose meaning I could not catch; and, the next moment, I was past the smugglers and out of their sight round a projecting rock. To this moment I cannot tell why they let me pass without a struggle, and when I told my adventure at Beyrout, it was scarcely believed. I am inclined to think it was owing to my being quite alone; they could not believe that I had not some powerful assistance near at hand, and these people are fortunately as cowardly as unscrupulous. I had still a weary distance to travel; and the broad stream of the Nahr el Kelb to ford or swim, as my jaded horse happened to choose the way, of which I was profoundly ignorant. The sun rose as I entered Beyrout and dismounted at my cottage, just twentyfive hours after I had mounted the preceding day. The moment the saddle was removed, my horse lay down upon the sand; but, after a few minutes' rest, when barley was offered to him, he stood up again, and ate heartily. I had just flung myself on my bed, when I saw the foretopsail of the Vernon cast loose, the signal that she was going to sea. I ran to the shore, hailed a fishing-boat, and got on board in time to take leave of my hospitable and gallant friends and their noble ship, which had so long afforded me a home. CHAPTER LIV. CONSTANTINOPLE. Is this the sovereign seat of Constantine? Is that indeed Sophia's far-famed dome, Where first the Faith was led in triumph home The aërial coasts now hang no more suspended With the wild sea-dirge their chants no more are blended— Onward they speed, by their own sorrows driven; And the winds waft alone their heavenly weeping. AUBREY DE Vere. I found myself on board a Turkish steamer, with 850 troops strewed along the deck so thickly that they could scarcely turn, and walking was quite out of the question. The forecabin was allotted to the hareems of the officers; the ladies' cabin was occupied by a Persian Princess; and two Persian Princes and I had the saloon to ourselves. They were very agreeable, courteous persons, and spoke with delight of their visit to England some years ago. The Opera and the "fire-carriages " were subjects on which they particularly loved to dwell, but the women of England were the supreme subjects of their admiration. "Persian ladees," said Prince Reza Oglu, "very beautifool; Constantininopoli ladees very beautifool; Engleesh ladees much very better." We past Cyprus the second day, a mountainous island of great capabilities, but withering under Turkish oppression. Paphos, or Baffa, as it is now called, contains only the fragments of one or two broken columns standing upon a promontory, bare, and unmystified by the gloom of surrounding groves. Being in quarantine, we were not permitted to land, and perhaps, judging from the following quotation, it was well for us. "The bewitching power attributed at this day to the women of Cyprus is curious in the connection with the worship of the sweet goddess who called their isle her own. The Cypriote is not, I think, nearly so beautiful in the face as the Ionian queens of Izmar; but she is tall, and slightly formed: there is a highsouled meaning and expression, a seeming consciousness of gentle empire, that speaks in the wavy lines of the shoulder, and winds itself, like Cytherea's own cestus, around the slender waist: then the richlyabounding hair (not enviously gathered together under the head-dress) descends the neck, and passes the waist in sumptuous braids. Of all other women, with |