Chapter Forty Four.

Chapter Forty Four.The Evasion.Three months had passed away, and though the hopes of the prisoners had been raised several times by the commencement of a thaw, this had been succeeded again and again by heavy falls of snow, and by repeated frosts which bound them more closely in the stronghold.But at last the weather completely changed. The wind came one day cloud-laden, and with a peculiar sensation of warmth. Thick mists hid the mountain tops, and filled up the valleys, and a few hours later the professor and his companions had to make a rush for the shelter of the great hall that was their prison, for a terrific downpour commenced, and for the next fortnight continued almost incessantly.The change that took place was astounding; the mountain sides seemed to be covered with rills, which rapidly grew, as they met, into mountain torrents, which swirled and foamed and cut their way through the dense masses of snow, till they were undermined and fell with loud reports; every now and then the loosened snow high up began to slide, and gathered force till it rushed down as a mighty avalanche, which crashed and thundered on its course, bearing with it rock and tree, and quite scraping bare places that had been covered with forest growth.At first the prisoners started up in alarm as they heard some terrible rush, but where they were placed was out of danger; and by degrees they grew used to the racing down of avalanche, and the roar of the leaping and bounding torrents, and sat talking to Yussuf all through that wet and comfortless time about the probabilities of their soon being able to escape.“The snow is going fast,” he said; “but for many days the mountain tracks will be impassable. We must wait till the torrents have subsided: we can do nothing till then.”Nearly four months had passed, since they had met the brigands first, before Yussuf announced that he thought they might venture to make a new attempt. The snow had pretty well gone, and the guards were returning to their stations at the great gate. There was an unwonted hum in the settlement, and when the chief came he seemed to take more interest in his prisoners, as if they were so many fat creatures which he had been keeping for sale, and the time had nearly come for him to realise them, and take the money.In fact, one day Yussuf came in hastily to announce a piece of news that he had heard.The messengers were expected now at any moment, for a band of the brigands had been out on a long foraging excursion, and had returned with the news that the passes were once more practicable, for the snow had nearly gone, save in the hollows, and the torrents had sunk pretty nearly to their usual state.“Then we must be going,” said Mr Burne, “eh?”“Yes, effendi,” said the guide, “before they place guards again at our door. We have plenty of provisions saved up, and we will make the attempt to-night.”This announcement sent a thrill through the little party, and for the rest of the day everyone was pale with excitement, and walked or sat about waiting eagerly for the coming of night.There was no packing to do, except the tying up of the food in the roughly-made bags they had prepared, and the rolling up of the professor’s drawings—for they had increased in number, the brigand chief having, half-contemptuously, given up the paper that had been packed upon the baggage-horses.Mr Preston was for making this into a square parcel, but Yussuf suggested the rolling up with waste paper at the bottom, and did this so tightly that the professor’s treasure, when bound with twine, assumed the form of a stout staff—“ready,” Mr Burne said with a chuckle, “for outward application to the head as well as inward.”All through the rest of that day the motions of the people were watched with the greatest of anxiety, and a dozen times over the appearance of one of the brigands was enough to suggest that suspicion had been aroused, and that they were to be more closely watched.But the night came at last—a dark still night without a breath of air; and as, about six o’clock as near as they could guess, everything seemed quiet, Yussuf went out and returned directly to say that there were no guards placed, and that under these circumstances it would be better to go at once. No one was likely to come again, so they might as well save a few hours and get a longer start.This premature announcement startled Mrs Chumley, so that she turned faint with excitement, and unfortunately the only thing they could offer her as a restorative was some grape treacle.This stuff Chumley insisted upon her taking, and the annoyance roused her into making an effort, and she rose to her feet.“I’m ready,” she said shortly; and then in a whisper to her husband, “Oh, Charley, I’ll talk to you for this.”“Silence!” whispered Yussuf sternly. “Are you all ready?”“Yes.”“Then follow as before, and without a word.”He drew aside the rug, and the darkness was so intense that they could not see the nearest building as they stepped out; but, to the horror of all, they had hardly set off when a couple of lanterns shone out. A party of half a dozen men, whose long gun-barrels glistened in the light, came round one of the ruined buildings, and one of them, whose voice sent a shudder through all, was talking loudly.The voice was that of the chief, and as the fugitives crouched down, Yussuf heard him bid his men keep a very stringent look-out, for the prisoners might make an attempt to escape.Yussuf caught Lawrence’s hand and drew him gently on, while, as he had Mrs Chumley’s tightly grasped, she naturally followed, and the others came after.“Quick!” whispered Yussuf, “or we shall be too late.”The darkness was terrible, but it was in their favour, so long as they could find the way to the old temple; and they needed its protection, for they had not gone many yards among the ruins before there was an outcry from the prison, then a keen and piercing whistle twice repeated, and the sounds of hurrying feet.Fortunately the old temple lay away from the inhabited portion: and as they hurried on, to the great joy of all they found that the chief and his menwere not upon their track, but were hurrying toward the great rock gates, thus proving at once, so it seemed, that they were ignorant of any other way out of the great rock-fortress.Once or twice Yussuf was puzzled in the darkness, but he caught up the trail again, and in a few minutes led them to the columned entrance of the temple, into whose shelter they passed with the noise and turmoil increasing, and lights flashing in all directions.“Hadn’t we better give up,” said Mr Chumley, with his teeth chattering from cold or dread.“Give up! What for?” cried Mr Burne.“They may shoot us,” whispered the little man. “I don’t mind, but—my wife.”“Silence!” whispered Yussuf, for the noise seemed to increase, and it was evident that the people were spreading all over the place in the search.As Yussuf spoke he hurried them on, and in a minute or two reached the stone that led to the passage in the rift.It was quite time he did, for some of the people, who knew how they had affected that place, were making for the temple.But Yussuf lost no time. He turned up the stone in an instant, and stood holding it ready.“Go first, Lawrence effendi,” he whispered; “help Lady Chumley and lead the way.”Lawrence dropped down at once, and Mrs Chumley followed with unexpected agility; then Chumley, Mr Burne, the professor; and as Yussuf was following, lights flashed through the old building, and lit up the roof.Fortunately the ruins of the ancient altar sheltered the guide, as he stepped down and carefully lowered the stone over his head as he descended; and so near was he to being seen that, as the stone sank exactly into its place, a man ran over it, followed by half a dozen more, their footsteps sounding hollow over the fugitives’ heads.Meanwhile Lawrence hurried Mrs Chumley down, the others following closely, till the bottom of the steps and slopes was reached, and the cool night air came softly in through the opening.There they stopped for Yussuf to act as guide; but, though his name was repeated in the darkness again and again, there was no answer, and it soon became evident that he was not with the party.“We cannot go without him,” said Mr Preston sternly. “Stop here, all of you, and I will go back and try to find him.” But there was no need, for just then they heard him descending.“I stopped to listen,” he said. “They have not yet found our track, and perhaps they may not; but they are searching the temple all over, for they have found something, and I don’t know what.”“My bag of bread and curd!” said Mr Chumley suddenly. “I dropped it near the door.”“Hah!” ejaculated Yussuf; but no one else said a word, though they thought a great deal, while Mr Chumley uttered a low cry in the darkness, such a cry as a man might give who was suffering from a sharp pinch given by his wife.The next moment the guide passed them, and they heard him thrust out a stone, which went rushing down the precipice, and fell after some moments, as if at a great distance, with a low pat. Then Yussuf bade them follow, and one by one they passed out on to a narrow rocky shelf, to stand listening to the buzz of voices and shouting far above their heads, where a faint flickering light seemed to be playing, while they were in total darkness.“Be firm and there is no danger,” said Yussuf; “only follow me closely, and think that I am leading you along a safe road.”The darkness was, on the whole, favourable, for it stayed the fugitives from seeing the perilous nature of the narrow shelf, where a false step would have plunged them into the ravine below; but they followed steadily enough, with the way gradually descending. Sometimes they had to climb cautiously over the rocks which encumbered the path, while twice over a large stone blocked their way, one which took all Yussuf’s strength to thrust it from the narrow path, when it thundered into the gorge with a noise that was awful in the extreme.Then on and on they went in the darkness, and almost in silence, hour after hour, and necessarily at a very slow pace. But there was this encouragement, that the lights and sounds of the rock-fortress gradually died out upon vision and ear, and after turning a sharp corner of the rocks they were heard no more.“I begin to be hopeful that they have not found out our way of escape,” said Mr Preston at last in a cheerful tone; but no one spoke, and the depressing walk was continued, hour after hour, with Yussuf untiringly leading the way, and ever watchful of perils.From time to time he uttered a few words of warning, and planted himself at some awkward spot to give a hand to all in turn before resuming his place in front.More than once there was a disposition to cry halt and rest, for the walk in the darkness was most exhausting; but the danger of being captured urged all to their utmost endeavours, and it was not till daybreak, which was late at that season of the year, that Yussuf called a halt in a pine-wood in a dip in the mountains, where the pine needles lay thick and dry; and now, for the first time, as the little party gazed back along the faint track by which they had come through the night, they thoroughly realised the terrible nature of their road.“Everyone lie down and eat,” said Yussuf in a low voice of command. “Before long we must start again.”He set the example, one which was eagerly followed, and soon after, in spite of the peril of their position and the likelihood of being followed and captured by the enraged chief, everyone fell fast asleep, and felt as if his or her eyes had scarcely been closed when, with the sun shining brightly, Yussuf roused them to continue their journey.The path now seemed so awful in places, as it ran along by the perpendicular walls of rock, that Chumley and Lawrence both hesitated, till the latter saw Yussuf’s calm smile, full of encouragement, when the lad stepped out firmly, and seeing that his wife followed, the little man drew a long breath and walked on.Now they came to mountain torrents that had to be crossed; now they had to go to the bottom of some deep gorge; now to ascend; but their course was always downwards in the aggregate, and at nightfall, when Yussuf selected another pine-wood for their resting-place, the air was perceptibly warmer.The next morning they continued along the faintly marked track, which was kept plain by the passage of wild animals; but it disappeared after descending to a stream in a defile; and this seemed to be its limit, for no trace of it was seen again.For six days longer the little party wandered in the mazes of these mountains, their guide owning that he was completely at fault, but urging, as he always led them down into valleys leading to the south and west, that they must be getting farther away from danger.It was this thought which buoyed them up during that nightmare-like walk, during which they seemed to be staggering on in their sleep and getting no farther.It seemed wonderful that they should journey so far, through a country that grew more and more fertile as they descended from the mountains, without coming upon a village or town; but, though they passed the remains of three ancient places, which the professor was too weary to examine, it was not until the seventh day that they reached a goodly-sized village, whose head-man proved to be hospitable, and, on finding the state to which the travellers had been reduced and the perils through which they had passed, he made no difficulty about sending a mounted messenger to Ansina, ninety miles away, with letters asking for help.

Three months had passed away, and though the hopes of the prisoners had been raised several times by the commencement of a thaw, this had been succeeded again and again by heavy falls of snow, and by repeated frosts which bound them more closely in the stronghold.

But at last the weather completely changed. The wind came one day cloud-laden, and with a peculiar sensation of warmth. Thick mists hid the mountain tops, and filled up the valleys, and a few hours later the professor and his companions had to make a rush for the shelter of the great hall that was their prison, for a terrific downpour commenced, and for the next fortnight continued almost incessantly.

The change that took place was astounding; the mountain sides seemed to be covered with rills, which rapidly grew, as they met, into mountain torrents, which swirled and foamed and cut their way through the dense masses of snow, till they were undermined and fell with loud reports; every now and then the loosened snow high up began to slide, and gathered force till it rushed down as a mighty avalanche, which crashed and thundered on its course, bearing with it rock and tree, and quite scraping bare places that had been covered with forest growth.

At first the prisoners started up in alarm as they heard some terrible rush, but where they were placed was out of danger; and by degrees they grew used to the racing down of avalanche, and the roar of the leaping and bounding torrents, and sat talking to Yussuf all through that wet and comfortless time about the probabilities of their soon being able to escape.

“The snow is going fast,” he said; “but for many days the mountain tracks will be impassable. We must wait till the torrents have subsided: we can do nothing till then.”

Nearly four months had passed, since they had met the brigands first, before Yussuf announced that he thought they might venture to make a new attempt. The snow had pretty well gone, and the guards were returning to their stations at the great gate. There was an unwonted hum in the settlement, and when the chief came he seemed to take more interest in his prisoners, as if they were so many fat creatures which he had been keeping for sale, and the time had nearly come for him to realise them, and take the money.

In fact, one day Yussuf came in hastily to announce a piece of news that he had heard.

The messengers were expected now at any moment, for a band of the brigands had been out on a long foraging excursion, and had returned with the news that the passes were once more practicable, for the snow had nearly gone, save in the hollows, and the torrents had sunk pretty nearly to their usual state.

“Then we must be going,” said Mr Burne, “eh?”

“Yes, effendi,” said the guide, “before they place guards again at our door. We have plenty of provisions saved up, and we will make the attempt to-night.”

This announcement sent a thrill through the little party, and for the rest of the day everyone was pale with excitement, and walked or sat about waiting eagerly for the coming of night.

There was no packing to do, except the tying up of the food in the roughly-made bags they had prepared, and the rolling up of the professor’s drawings—for they had increased in number, the brigand chief having, half-contemptuously, given up the paper that had been packed upon the baggage-horses.

Mr Preston was for making this into a square parcel, but Yussuf suggested the rolling up with waste paper at the bottom, and did this so tightly that the professor’s treasure, when bound with twine, assumed the form of a stout staff—“ready,” Mr Burne said with a chuckle, “for outward application to the head as well as inward.”

All through the rest of that day the motions of the people were watched with the greatest of anxiety, and a dozen times over the appearance of one of the brigands was enough to suggest that suspicion had been aroused, and that they were to be more closely watched.

But the night came at last—a dark still night without a breath of air; and as, about six o’clock as near as they could guess, everything seemed quiet, Yussuf went out and returned directly to say that there were no guards placed, and that under these circumstances it would be better to go at once. No one was likely to come again, so they might as well save a few hours and get a longer start.

This premature announcement startled Mrs Chumley, so that she turned faint with excitement, and unfortunately the only thing they could offer her as a restorative was some grape treacle.

This stuff Chumley insisted upon her taking, and the annoyance roused her into making an effort, and she rose to her feet.

“I’m ready,” she said shortly; and then in a whisper to her husband, “Oh, Charley, I’ll talk to you for this.”

“Silence!” whispered Yussuf sternly. “Are you all ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then follow as before, and without a word.”

He drew aside the rug, and the darkness was so intense that they could not see the nearest building as they stepped out; but, to the horror of all, they had hardly set off when a couple of lanterns shone out. A party of half a dozen men, whose long gun-barrels glistened in the light, came round one of the ruined buildings, and one of them, whose voice sent a shudder through all, was talking loudly.

The voice was that of the chief, and as the fugitives crouched down, Yussuf heard him bid his men keep a very stringent look-out, for the prisoners might make an attempt to escape.

Yussuf caught Lawrence’s hand and drew him gently on, while, as he had Mrs Chumley’s tightly grasped, she naturally followed, and the others came after.

“Quick!” whispered Yussuf, “or we shall be too late.”

The darkness was terrible, but it was in their favour, so long as they could find the way to the old temple; and they needed its protection, for they had not gone many yards among the ruins before there was an outcry from the prison, then a keen and piercing whistle twice repeated, and the sounds of hurrying feet.

Fortunately the old temple lay away from the inhabited portion: and as they hurried on, to the great joy of all they found that the chief and his menwere not upon their track, but were hurrying toward the great rock gates, thus proving at once, so it seemed, that they were ignorant of any other way out of the great rock-fortress.

Once or twice Yussuf was puzzled in the darkness, but he caught up the trail again, and in a few minutes led them to the columned entrance of the temple, into whose shelter they passed with the noise and turmoil increasing, and lights flashing in all directions.

“Hadn’t we better give up,” said Mr Chumley, with his teeth chattering from cold or dread.

“Give up! What for?” cried Mr Burne.

“They may shoot us,” whispered the little man. “I don’t mind, but—my wife.”

“Silence!” whispered Yussuf, for the noise seemed to increase, and it was evident that the people were spreading all over the place in the search.

As Yussuf spoke he hurried them on, and in a minute or two reached the stone that led to the passage in the rift.

It was quite time he did, for some of the people, who knew how they had affected that place, were making for the temple.

But Yussuf lost no time. He turned up the stone in an instant, and stood holding it ready.

“Go first, Lawrence effendi,” he whispered; “help Lady Chumley and lead the way.”

Lawrence dropped down at once, and Mrs Chumley followed with unexpected agility; then Chumley, Mr Burne, the professor; and as Yussuf was following, lights flashed through the old building, and lit up the roof.

Fortunately the ruins of the ancient altar sheltered the guide, as he stepped down and carefully lowered the stone over his head as he descended; and so near was he to being seen that, as the stone sank exactly into its place, a man ran over it, followed by half a dozen more, their footsteps sounding hollow over the fugitives’ heads.

Meanwhile Lawrence hurried Mrs Chumley down, the others following closely, till the bottom of the steps and slopes was reached, and the cool night air came softly in through the opening.

There they stopped for Yussuf to act as guide; but, though his name was repeated in the darkness again and again, there was no answer, and it soon became evident that he was not with the party.

“We cannot go without him,” said Mr Preston sternly. “Stop here, all of you, and I will go back and try to find him.” But there was no need, for just then they heard him descending.

“I stopped to listen,” he said. “They have not yet found our track, and perhaps they may not; but they are searching the temple all over, for they have found something, and I don’t know what.”

“My bag of bread and curd!” said Mr Chumley suddenly. “I dropped it near the door.”

“Hah!” ejaculated Yussuf; but no one else said a word, though they thought a great deal, while Mr Chumley uttered a low cry in the darkness, such a cry as a man might give who was suffering from a sharp pinch given by his wife.

The next moment the guide passed them, and they heard him thrust out a stone, which went rushing down the precipice, and fell after some moments, as if at a great distance, with a low pat. Then Yussuf bade them follow, and one by one they passed out on to a narrow rocky shelf, to stand listening to the buzz of voices and shouting far above their heads, where a faint flickering light seemed to be playing, while they were in total darkness.

“Be firm and there is no danger,” said Yussuf; “only follow me closely, and think that I am leading you along a safe road.”

The darkness was, on the whole, favourable, for it stayed the fugitives from seeing the perilous nature of the narrow shelf, where a false step would have plunged them into the ravine below; but they followed steadily enough, with the way gradually descending. Sometimes they had to climb cautiously over the rocks which encumbered the path, while twice over a large stone blocked their way, one which took all Yussuf’s strength to thrust it from the narrow path, when it thundered into the gorge with a noise that was awful in the extreme.

Then on and on they went in the darkness, and almost in silence, hour after hour, and necessarily at a very slow pace. But there was this encouragement, that the lights and sounds of the rock-fortress gradually died out upon vision and ear, and after turning a sharp corner of the rocks they were heard no more.

“I begin to be hopeful that they have not found out our way of escape,” said Mr Preston at last in a cheerful tone; but no one spoke, and the depressing walk was continued, hour after hour, with Yussuf untiringly leading the way, and ever watchful of perils.

From time to time he uttered a few words of warning, and planted himself at some awkward spot to give a hand to all in turn before resuming his place in front.

More than once there was a disposition to cry halt and rest, for the walk in the darkness was most exhausting; but the danger of being captured urged all to their utmost endeavours, and it was not till daybreak, which was late at that season of the year, that Yussuf called a halt in a pine-wood in a dip in the mountains, where the pine needles lay thick and dry; and now, for the first time, as the little party gazed back along the faint track by which they had come through the night, they thoroughly realised the terrible nature of their road.

“Everyone lie down and eat,” said Yussuf in a low voice of command. “Before long we must start again.”

He set the example, one which was eagerly followed, and soon after, in spite of the peril of their position and the likelihood of being followed and captured by the enraged chief, everyone fell fast asleep, and felt as if his or her eyes had scarcely been closed when, with the sun shining brightly, Yussuf roused them to continue their journey.

The path now seemed so awful in places, as it ran along by the perpendicular walls of rock, that Chumley and Lawrence both hesitated, till the latter saw Yussuf’s calm smile, full of encouragement, when the lad stepped out firmly, and seeing that his wife followed, the little man drew a long breath and walked on.

Now they came to mountain torrents that had to be crossed; now they had to go to the bottom of some deep gorge; now to ascend; but their course was always downwards in the aggregate, and at nightfall, when Yussuf selected another pine-wood for their resting-place, the air was perceptibly warmer.

The next morning they continued along the faintly marked track, which was kept plain by the passage of wild animals; but it disappeared after descending to a stream in a defile; and this seemed to be its limit, for no trace of it was seen again.

For six days longer the little party wandered in the mazes of these mountains, their guide owning that he was completely at fault, but urging, as he always led them down into valleys leading to the south and west, that they must be getting farther away from danger.

It was this thought which buoyed them up during that nightmare-like walk, during which they seemed to be staggering on in their sleep and getting no farther.

It seemed wonderful that they should journey so far, through a country that grew more and more fertile as they descended from the mountains, without coming upon a village or town; but, though they passed the remains of three ancient places, which the professor was too weary to examine, it was not until the seventh day that they reached a goodly-sized village, whose head-man proved to be hospitable, and, on finding the state to which the travellers had been reduced and the perils through which they had passed, he made no difficulty about sending a mounted messenger to Ansina, ninety miles away, with letters asking for help.

Chapter Forty Five.Homeward Bound.Exhausted as the travellers were, sleep, good food, and the soft sweet air soon restored them, and they were ready to continue their journey long before their messenger returned, to bring faithfully the means for a fresh start, with fresh ponies, and the necessaries they required, though these were hard to obtain in so out-of-the-way a place.The weather was threatening as they started at last for Ansina, the Chumleys electing to accompany them. In fact, on parting, their host, who had been amply recompensed for his kindness, warned them to hasten on to the port, for snow, he said, would fall before the week was out, and then the famished wolves would descend from the mountains and the plain become dangerous.The advice was readily taken, for all were quite satisfied that their travels in Asia Minor would be better ended for the present.In this spirit they made the best of their way to the port, where they arrived with the snow falling slightly, though high up in the mountains there was a heavy storm. They took up their quarters at the best hotel in the place, and could have gone on at once by the steamer from Beyrout, but at Lawrence’s wish the departure was put off till the coming of the next boat, a fortnight later.“You do not feel so well?” said Mr Preston anxiously.“Eh, what, not so well?” cried Mr Burne, turning to look at Lawrence. “Look here, don’t say that. I thought we had cured him.”“Oh, I’m quite well and strong,” cried Lawrence quickly.“But you seem so dull,” said the professor.Lawrence did not answer, but turned away his head.“I wish we had gone on,” said Mr Preston anxiously. “There would have been good medical advice on board.”“No, no, I am not ill,” said Lawrence; and then in a broken voice, he cried excitedly, “I wanted to put it off as long as I could.”“What! going home, my dear lad?” said Mr Burne eagerly. “You are afraid of our climate again. Then let’s stay.”“No, no; it was not that,” said Lawrence. “I—I—there, I must say it. Yussuf has—has been such a good fellow, and we shall have to say good-bye at Smyrna.”The professor was silent for a few minutes.“Perhaps not for always,” he said at last. “Yes: he has been a thoroughly good fellow, and I, for one, should like to come out and have another trip with him. What do you say?”“Yes, yes,” cried Lawrence eagerly; and he rushed out of the room, to be seen the next minute holding on by the grave-looking Turk’s arm and telling him the news.“Look at that,” whispered Mr Burne to the professor, as he eagerly watched Yussuf’s countenance. “Now, if ever anyone tells me in the future that the Turks always hate the Christians, I can give him an instance to the contrary.”The time soon glided by for the coming of the next boat, and in due course they landed at Smyrna, where the parting with Yussuf was more that of friends and friend, than of the employer and employed.“If you do come out again, excellencies, and I am living, nothing shall stay me from being your faithful guide,” he said, as he stood at the gangway of the steamer; “and as for you, Lawrence effendi, may the blessings spoken of by the patriarchs be with you in your goings out and comings in, and may the God of your fathers give you that greatest of his blessings, health.”Lawrence did not speak, but clung to the faithful hand till the Turk descended into the boat; and he then stood gazing over the gangway till the grave, thickly-bearded countenance grew less and less and at last died from his sight.The little party landed at Trieste, where they parted from the Chumleys, who were going home; but Lawrence and his friends, after repairing the damages to their wardrobes, went by rail to Rome, and made that their home till the rigour of the English spring had passed away.It was one fine morning at the beginning of June, that a cab laden with luggage stopped at the old home in Guilford Street, where the door was opened by Mrs Dunn, who stared with astonishment at the sturdy youth who bounded up the steps into the hall, and then clasped her in his arms.“Why, my dear, dear boy!” she cried, “I had brought blankets down to wrap you in, and a warm bath ready, and asked cook’s husband to be in waiting to carry you upstairs.”“Why, nurse, I could carry you up,” cried Lawrence merrily. “How well you look! Ah, Doctor Shorter.”“Why, you wicked young impostor,” cried the doctor; “here have I neglected two patients this afternoon on purpose to come and attend on you. I came as soon as nurse Dunn told me she had received the telegram from Folkestone. Bless my heart, how you have changed!”“Changed, sir?” cried Mr Burne, “I should think he has changed. He has been giving up physic, and trusting to the law, sir. See what we have done!”“Yes, doctor,” said the professor, shaking hands warmly. “I think you may give him up as cured.”“Cured? That he is!” cried the doctor. “Well, live and learn. I shall know what to do with my next patient, now.”“And if here isn’t Mrs Dunn crying with vexation, because she has no occasion to make gruel and mix mustard plaisters for the poor boy,” cried Mr Burne banteringly.“No, no, no, sir,” said the old woman sobbing; “it is out of the thankfulness of my poor old heart at seeing my dear boy once more well and strong.”The doctor took out his notebook, and made a memorandum as Lawrence flung his arms round the tender-hearted old woman’s neck; the professor walked to the window; and Mr Burne whisked out the yellow handkerchief he had worn round his fez, and over which he had made his only joke, that he was so yellow and red, he looked like a fezzan, and blew his nose till the room echoed. After which he was obliged to calm himself with a pinch of snuff.“Well, Lawrence,” said the professor, after they had all dined together. “You remember what you said at Ansina?”“Yes.”“What do you say now? Would you go through all those wearinesses and risks again if I asked you?”“Yes, sir, at any time, if Yussuf is to be our guide.”“And so say I,” cried Mr Burne, “if you would have such a cantankerous old man.”“Ah, well,” said the professor. “I am not half satisfied. We shall see.”And so it was left.The End.

Exhausted as the travellers were, sleep, good food, and the soft sweet air soon restored them, and they were ready to continue their journey long before their messenger returned, to bring faithfully the means for a fresh start, with fresh ponies, and the necessaries they required, though these were hard to obtain in so out-of-the-way a place.

The weather was threatening as they started at last for Ansina, the Chumleys electing to accompany them. In fact, on parting, their host, who had been amply recompensed for his kindness, warned them to hasten on to the port, for snow, he said, would fall before the week was out, and then the famished wolves would descend from the mountains and the plain become dangerous.

The advice was readily taken, for all were quite satisfied that their travels in Asia Minor would be better ended for the present.

In this spirit they made the best of their way to the port, where they arrived with the snow falling slightly, though high up in the mountains there was a heavy storm. They took up their quarters at the best hotel in the place, and could have gone on at once by the steamer from Beyrout, but at Lawrence’s wish the departure was put off till the coming of the next boat, a fortnight later.

“You do not feel so well?” said Mr Preston anxiously.

“Eh, what, not so well?” cried Mr Burne, turning to look at Lawrence. “Look here, don’t say that. I thought we had cured him.”

“Oh, I’m quite well and strong,” cried Lawrence quickly.

“But you seem so dull,” said the professor.

Lawrence did not answer, but turned away his head.

“I wish we had gone on,” said Mr Preston anxiously. “There would have been good medical advice on board.”

“No, no, I am not ill,” said Lawrence; and then in a broken voice, he cried excitedly, “I wanted to put it off as long as I could.”

“What! going home, my dear lad?” said Mr Burne eagerly. “You are afraid of our climate again. Then let’s stay.”

“No, no; it was not that,” said Lawrence. “I—I—there, I must say it. Yussuf has—has been such a good fellow, and we shall have to say good-bye at Smyrna.”

The professor was silent for a few minutes.

“Perhaps not for always,” he said at last. “Yes: he has been a thoroughly good fellow, and I, for one, should like to come out and have another trip with him. What do you say?”

“Yes, yes,” cried Lawrence eagerly; and he rushed out of the room, to be seen the next minute holding on by the grave-looking Turk’s arm and telling him the news.

“Look at that,” whispered Mr Burne to the professor, as he eagerly watched Yussuf’s countenance. “Now, if ever anyone tells me in the future that the Turks always hate the Christians, I can give him an instance to the contrary.”

The time soon glided by for the coming of the next boat, and in due course they landed at Smyrna, where the parting with Yussuf was more that of friends and friend, than of the employer and employed.

“If you do come out again, excellencies, and I am living, nothing shall stay me from being your faithful guide,” he said, as he stood at the gangway of the steamer; “and as for you, Lawrence effendi, may the blessings spoken of by the patriarchs be with you in your goings out and comings in, and may the God of your fathers give you that greatest of his blessings, health.”

Lawrence did not speak, but clung to the faithful hand till the Turk descended into the boat; and he then stood gazing over the gangway till the grave, thickly-bearded countenance grew less and less and at last died from his sight.

The little party landed at Trieste, where they parted from the Chumleys, who were going home; but Lawrence and his friends, after repairing the damages to their wardrobes, went by rail to Rome, and made that their home till the rigour of the English spring had passed away.

It was one fine morning at the beginning of June, that a cab laden with luggage stopped at the old home in Guilford Street, where the door was opened by Mrs Dunn, who stared with astonishment at the sturdy youth who bounded up the steps into the hall, and then clasped her in his arms.

“Why, my dear, dear boy!” she cried, “I had brought blankets down to wrap you in, and a warm bath ready, and asked cook’s husband to be in waiting to carry you upstairs.”

“Why, nurse, I could carry you up,” cried Lawrence merrily. “How well you look! Ah, Doctor Shorter.”

“Why, you wicked young impostor,” cried the doctor; “here have I neglected two patients this afternoon on purpose to come and attend on you. I came as soon as nurse Dunn told me she had received the telegram from Folkestone. Bless my heart, how you have changed!”

“Changed, sir?” cried Mr Burne, “I should think he has changed. He has been giving up physic, and trusting to the law, sir. See what we have done!”

“Yes, doctor,” said the professor, shaking hands warmly. “I think you may give him up as cured.”

“Cured? That he is!” cried the doctor. “Well, live and learn. I shall know what to do with my next patient, now.”

“And if here isn’t Mrs Dunn crying with vexation, because she has no occasion to make gruel and mix mustard plaisters for the poor boy,” cried Mr Burne banteringly.

“No, no, no, sir,” said the old woman sobbing; “it is out of the thankfulness of my poor old heart at seeing my dear boy once more well and strong.”

The doctor took out his notebook, and made a memorandum as Lawrence flung his arms round the tender-hearted old woman’s neck; the professor walked to the window; and Mr Burne whisked out the yellow handkerchief he had worn round his fez, and over which he had made his only joke, that he was so yellow and red, he looked like a fezzan, and blew his nose till the room echoed. After which he was obliged to calm himself with a pinch of snuff.

“Well, Lawrence,” said the professor, after they had all dined together. “You remember what you said at Ansina?”

“Yes.”

“What do you say now? Would you go through all those wearinesses and risks again if I asked you?”

“Yes, sir, at any time, if Yussuf is to be our guide.”

“And so say I,” cried Mr Burne, “if you would have such a cantankerous old man.”

“Ah, well,” said the professor. “I am not half satisfied. We shall see.”

And so it was left.

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