got a chance shot at a hare, a woodcock, or the like; we quarrelled with some villagers, and were friendly with others. One day, the weather was fine and the sky, in spite of the wintry season, quite startling to me in its clearness, the air pure and brisk; another day, heavy showers of rain and sleet, with driving wind and mist, would give us something of an adventure in hunting after a shelter; in a word, I enjoyed the journey much more than, not half a year before, I could have thought possible for me.

"With most of my fellow-travellers, however, matters went otherwise. The Bagdadees,

annoyed by the cold, and little used to roughing, were frequently out of humour; the Circassians took occasion from every accident or inconvenience of the route to quarrel with all around them in general, and with each other in particular; while the two Greeks

seemed to be always on the look out for something that they could not find.

"Not caring for squabbles and intrigues, I preferred associating with the better-humoured ones of our party; that is, with the semiKoordish Arab horsemen men accustomed to adventure and fatigue, wild daring fellows, whose courage seemed to rise with every hardship and difficulty. I derived much amusement, too, from our half-dozen blacks, who, when not in a state of violent but shortlived passion about some very inadequate cause, were normally in excellent spirits, and sociable enough. The Croatian, Ghalib, kept along with us, but was no talker; besides, he knew neither Turkish nor Arabic, and only a few words of German; of this last language he availed himself when hard pressed to communicate with me, and through me with the others. I was, on the contrary, quick at

learning, and had, in addition to my Turkish, already picked up a fair amount of low Arabic, for which I was chiefly indebted to my African companions. With our master, the Pasha, we had little converse; he rode apart, none being habitually near him but his kaḥiya, and two other men of similar rank; one of these was a distant relation, and his . private secretary.

"We remained twenty days at Diar-Bekr. All had need of repose-Pasha and slaves, attendants and horses. The genial spring warmth, so different from the lifeless heat of autumn, invited us to rest and to repair our strength; and the town, unlike Keysareeyah, abounded in attractions for visitors of whatever sort, besides those more especially prepared for or reserved to ourselves. It was a pleasant time.

During our stay here, I more than once

helped to escort my master on his frequent visits to an intimate friend of his, one Rustoom Beg, a Koord of old family, wealthy, and influential. The Beg's house was agreeably situated among the gardens without the

town walls, not far from the river; on every side of it rose a perfect forest of fruit-trees of every kind, now in the fullest of their blossom and the greenest of their leaf. When I had once been recognised as a favourite attendant of the great man of the day, the newly-appointed governor of Bagdad, I was admitted as a chartered lounger wherever I chose to go. I took, as it happened, a peculiar fancy to Rustoom Beg's garden, in the quiet seclusion of which I found fitter opportunity than elsewhere for the solitude that, naturally enough, I often desired; and no hindrance was put to my entering it and remaining there at any time or hour of the

day. And thus it came about in this very garden that but what good would there be in relating it? Lost is lost, to me at least,let it rest." Here Hermann stopped short

in his narration and looked down, with a flushed and troubled face.

Less intelligence than Tantawee possessed might, under the circumstances of the story and its teller, have sufficed to divine in a general way the nature both of the occurrence and of the loss thus alluded to by his young friend. He considered a moment, and then said, in a tone of studied cheerfulness,

"What was it that happened to you there? Tell me, my dear fellow; you may rely on my keeping the knowledge of it to myself; and I for my part cannot consent to remain in ignorance of anything that so nearly concerns you, as, by your manner, this would seem to do."