ADVENTURE IN ATHENS.

MY DEAR PAN BELLENICS,

In common with the abhorred sons of Othman, I believe that every event is determined by an irreversible decree. Exiled from the country of my fathers-from that beloved, oppressed, unhappy, but still glorious Greece," the clime of the unforgotten brave" and condemned to pass the few miserable days that remain to me on the face of the earth as a fugitive and an outlaw-on whose forehead every passer-by may discover the mark of Cain-I yet feel something resembling a throb or pulse of delight vibrate in my heart, when I call to mind, not that the guilt of my individual crimes shall be laid to the immutable ordination and prescription of fate, but that "Greece may yet be free," and that the hour-the long-looked for hour of her renovation is at hand. Yes, by the awful spirits of our forefathers, who bled at Marathon, Salamis, Thermopylæ, and Platea, Greece shall yet raise her head once more among the nations; and minds, now obscured, buried, and enthralled by the cruelest and most remorseless despotism ever inflicted by the spirit of evil as a curse on humanity, shall burst the fetters of their bondage, and come forth, like giants freshened and invigorated by long repose, to astonish and delight the world. The broken and scattered fragments of the glo

VOL. IX.

rious monuments of ancient days shall be gathered together, and barbarian spoilers, iconoclasts, and plunderers, shall be compelled to surrender the sacrilegious despoilings of the Temples of Freedom. The Genius of Greece shall, phoenix-like, arise from her ashes, and the brilliant sun of liberty shine on those mountains, vallies, and scenes, which patriotism has illustrated, and poetry immortalised. The dust and ashes of the almost tenantless sepulchres shall yield forth the spirits of those whose bodies they once entombed, and the very stones cry for vengeance and emancipation from the crazy but accursed despotism of the worshippers of the Prophet. This, if you call it a delusive, is, at least, a splendid vision, from which flows forth a halo of anticipated glory, bright enough to irradiate even a darker spirit than mine. Δευτο παίδες των Ελληνῶν But no vision of future regeneration and renown can dispel or disenchant the present dreadful reality. Greece still remains prostrate at the feet of her barbarian oppressors, and the blood of her best, because bravest sons, is profusely flowing under the scimitars of a timorous, and therefore cruel despotism. Even my heart bleeds when I think of the price which must be paid for freedom. Oh! that I could yet strike a blow for life and death against the remorseless Moslems! But since that may not be, I ask, with that truly noble English poet whose soul burns with the divine enthusiasm and the lofty elo

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quence of our own Plato himself, and who is a Greek in feeling, if not in country,

And where are they? And where art

thou,

My country? On thy voiceless shore
The heroic lay is tuneless now,
The heroic bosom beats no more!

Must we but weep o'er days more blest?
Must we but blush? Our fathers bled!
Earth! render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred, grant but three,
To make a new Thermopyla.

What! silent still? and silent all?
Ah! no;-the voices of the dead
Sound like a distant torrent's fall,
And answer, "Let one living head
But once arise-we come, we come!
"Tis but the living who are dumb."

You will doubtless recollect that I formerly promised to gratify your very proper desire to know the exact particulars of that daring, desperate, and successful act of vengeance, which marked me out for destruction from the Othman government, and which excited, as the Franks say, so great a sensation throughout the whole of Greece. I am the more anxious to redeem this pledge, and to put you in possession of every circumstance connected with the bold and perilous deed now alluded to; as the employment of writ ing, by controlling my associations, and diverting the morbid current of my thoughts, may prevent my restless spirit from absolute annihilation, by perpetual commerce with its own gloomy and desponding imaginations, and, at the same time, enable me to correct some false impressions, which I have reason to know you have received of the events of that fearful hour which sealed the fate of the accursed Disdar Agà of Athens.

You already know that I had been only a short time returned from Constantinople, whither I had been secretly dispatched on a mission of such importance, that even to you, Panhellenios, whose mind is spotless as the snow on Pindus or Ida, I dare not reveal its nature or object-some bickering took place between myself and the Voivode, concerning a fine Arab courser, which he had caused his people to remove from my stables, for his own use, and without leave

either asked or given. Furious at being robbed, by the hoary ruffian, of my favourite steed, I met my enemy one day on the banks of the Ilissos, and hard by the Enneakrounos. He was a man of small stature, feeble, cowardly, treacherous, and, from excessive sensuality, as hysterical and nervous as a Frenchwoman. He looked as if he would sooner have encountered Eb. lis himself, and had Azraël appeared before him with the fatal dart from "his deadly quiver," he could not have been seized with greater trembling and terror. He knew my history well enough to be convinced that he had done wrong to incense me. I upbraided the miserable craven with the act of bare-faced robbery, and, in the uncalculating passion of the moment, threatened to pluck him by the beard, the most inexpiable insult that can be offered to a Moslem. His dark eye lowered with a dreadful expression of hatred and meditated revenge-he mustered up courage enough to set his teeth together, and squeeze out the words, dog, Giaour, Greek, when observing my hand on that Damascus blade (the gift of Ali Pasha, bestowed in the field of battle) which had never failed me at my need, and which, to speak the truth, was no stranger to Moslem blood, he instantly put spurs to his horse and scam. pered off. Forgiveness is no Turkish infirmity. Though he was too cowardly to attempt public, I knew he would seek secret revenge, and took precautions extraordinary to defeat the purposes of his malignity. I dismissed my servants, some of whom were Arnaoots, and not to be trusted. I boarded myself in the Monastery of St Spiridion, the papas Urban being an ancient friend of my family's. I never went abroad unless doubly armed, and carefully avoided a meeting with the Voivode when attended, as was almost always the case. Signor Logotheti, the English consul, and an Englishman of the name of Tweddell, to whom I had rendered some services, and whose frank, generous, and manly character I admired and loved, were, at first, the only persons I ventured to entrust with the secret of my retreat. Devoted to books and study, and occasionally cheered by the society of

those two friends, embalmed as they are in my heart of hearts, time passed away, not merely tolerably, but pleasantly. My suspicions began in time to relax, and I reproached myself for taking such prudent measures of defence against the dreaded machina tions of the hoary, but dastardly oppressor, who now lived in terror of the inhabitants of the city and villages within his jurisdiction, lest they should forward to the Porte a joint representation against his rapacity, cruelty, and injustice. Such representations are never overlooked or cast aside. The Porte listens with pleasure to accusations preferred against its old and opulent servants. This affords the much longed-for opportunity of squeezing out of the inferior horse-leeches of despotism the marrow they had sucked from the vitals of a suffering people. The Voivode knew this, and was now anxious, if possible, by forbearance, and some clumsy acts intended to be popular, to appease the just resentment of the Athenians, and to avert the storm that was ready to burst on his guilty head.

Reflecting on these circumstances, and being naturally a stranger to fear, I soon began to discontinue the measures of precaution which I had been persuaded to adopt, and to sally forth to perambulate the city and the adjacent country, in my usual reckless fashion. In the meantime, no thing occurred to re-awaken my former suspicions. I had travelled as far as Misitra, Thebes, Corinth; had been to Ægina, and several of the islands; and had even ventured to ascend Pentelicon, to search for antique vestiges in its celebrated marble quarries. Emboldened by impunity, and by a conviction that the critical position of the Voivode himself must compel him to smother and digest his revenge as be best might, I, one day, had the temerity to enter the Acropolis, in order once more to give my eyes a holiday with the sight of the remains of that unrivalled edifice, which has been the admiration of all past ages, and, but for an English barbarian might have remained tolerably entire, to excite the

“Quod non fecerunt Goti, hoc fece runt Scoti."

admiration and wonder of many ages to come. But I had scarcely crossed the gate of the garrison, and given the drowsy smokers, nicknamed sentinels, their accustomed number of paras, when I observed the Voivode and the Disdar in earnest conversation. The eyes of both were quickly turned, with no friendly expression, towards the intruder. Delight ap-. peared to shed gleams of light over the sombre physiognomy of the Voivode, who could hardly conceal his joy, that his mortal foe had at last run his head into the toils. I felt that I had gone to beard the lion in his lair. To retreat was difficult, if not impossible, to say nothing of its disgrace: to remain, was to submit myself to the mercy of a couple of ruffians, to one of whom I had offered an inexpiable insult. Agitated by the contending passions of pride, revenge, and defiance, I remained for a few seconds motionless, perfectly unable to determine what line of conduct I ought to adopt and pursue. There was little time for hesitation. I had formerly known the Disdar, in an inferior capacity, and had oftener than once fought in battle by his side. It occurred to me at the moment, that I would accost my former companion in arms. I did so. He seemed confused, and cast on me a frown of withering hatred and utter abhorrence; a scowl of such black and dæmoniacal expression, that, although I were destined, like "the fabled Hebrew wanderer," to endure a peripatetic immortality, I should never be able to obliterate the picture so indelibly graven on my memory and imagination. Ere I had time to collect my ideas, somewhat disturbed by my critical situation, and the certainty that the Disdar Agà, from whom I expected civility, if not justice, had made common cause with my enemy, a ruffian-looking Turk, of Herculean limbs and gigantic stature, seized me by the left arm with a grasp of iron, and hurried me, as I at first believed, towards the gate. As you have often told me you were never in the Acropolis (To xurgò), it may be proper to mention, that, in going from the town to the garrison, the first gate is at the foot of the rock facing nearly north-east; that, having turned to the north-west angle

of the citadel, you approach a second gate to the right, facing the Piræus; opposite which is a third gate, which is the entrance of the Acropolis. At the second gate, which is less than thirty yards from the first, sits the guard, cross-legged, smoking and sleeping alternately, and manifesting an indifference to all human affairs, which no cynical philosopher ever equalled, far less surpassed. For a few seconds I yielded to the iron gripe of the lumbering Goth, who had so promptly obeyed the signal of his commander, and followed him without the least effort of resistance, till I found him directing his course, not to the last of the three gates I have described, and which was now the first in making our exit, but to the northern angle of the rampart, where it is built on the extreme edge of the precipice, and the perpendicular height of which, independently of that of the rampart, is nearly two hundred feet. It was obvious he meant to hurl me headlong from the projecting ledge of the rock. I was not yet weary of life, and determined to make a desperate cffort to escape destruction. The lumbering Vandal, who was now dragging me to this, worse than Tarpeian death, had neglected to take from me my dagger, which I now grasped with all the force and fury which the fear of death and the thirst for revenge could inspire. Need I add, that, with one unerring blow, I drove my steel to his heart. The shock was so sudden, that no precautions had been taken to secure the gate, to which I now bounded off with the speed of lightning, before the drowsy animal of an old Turk, who stood there, could take any measures to intercept my flight. The Disdar and Voivode both fired their pistols after me, but with no better fortune, although the report of the fire-arms roused the guard at the middle gate, which they were in the very act of shutting as I approached, foaming like a furious war-horse, and threatening instant death to every one that opposed my exit. The guards believing me mad, (the Turks have a superstitious reverence for insane and fatuous persons, to whom they ascribe certain supernatural endowments, and, among others, the power of seeing

into futurity,) instantly opened the gate, calling on Allah to protect them against the evil spirit by which they believed me possessed. My heart leaped with delight, when I found myself fairly beyond this barrier, which, at one moment, seemed to me as impassable as the gulf between the rich man in hell and the glorified mendicant in the Patriarch's bosom. It is true, that popping shots were fired at me, from all parts of the rampart where I was visible in my flight; but these I despised, scorning to accelerate my pace, as I knew there were no sentinels at the city gate; and as I firmly believed, as every soldier who has been long familiar with danger and death must do, that every bullet has its billet, Or scarcely graz'd its force to feel," "Escap'd from shot, unharm'd by steel,

I was now congratulating myself, that the deep and murderous vengeance of the Voivode had, by the ascendant of my happy stars, been rendered abortive; when a shot, fired by some viewless hand, with too sure an aim, was received by me in my left arm, by which it was broken below the elbow joint; and I, who had thus far eluded the fury of my enemies, rendered incapable of further flight or resistance, from the violent pain of the wound, and the sickly and paralyzing feeling which in an instant trilled through my whole frame, reducing me to that nervous and fainting state, in which young maidens generally fall when a vein is breathed for the first time by their family chirurgeon. At that dreadful moment, compared to the sufferings of which the bitterness of death must be a jest—at that critical, allimportant moment, your matchless brother, the faithful, long-tried Spiridion, happened to pass, and without tarrying, as a man of a vulgar mind would have done, to interrogate me as to the cause of my present hapless plight, he seized me by the unwounded arm, put his own arm round my waist, and hurried me off in a state approaching to insensibility, before the somnolent ruffians in the garrison had been able to ascertain in what direction I had been carried.

My wound was severe, but not dangerous; and though it kept me