contend against such overwhelming power: even a strong accustomed swimmer in such a sea as this, without the hope of immediate help at hand, could hardly hold out long.

It seems a trivial thing to read of, perhaps, the death-struggle of a man, one of the myriad throes that each hour witnesses; but to him who undergoes it, the thing is a keen and bitter tragedy. It seemed incredible, impossible, that I should be at the last moment of my life-but already stupor was seizing on my limbs, a bitter cold was striking to my heart. I had gone under for the last time, as I thought, and the rapid current was sweeping me along towards the open sea, when I felt the gloom of some dark object above me, and struck heavily against an iron chain. It was the chain of a ship lying at anchor in the stream.

For a moment, as I rose to the surface, and saw the chain stretching out of the water to the ship, I thought that I was saved; the current had swept me out of the broken water, and the storm seemed to have ceased as suddenly as it had risen; but the chain, after all, was a danger rather than a help. It swayed to and fro in my grasp; now I had my head above water, now I was covered with a rush of water; the strong current, too, was dragging at me, and trying to suck me down under the keel of the ship; I was wasting my last strength in a useless struggle, drowning myself as fast as I could. I let go the chain in despair, and felt myself scraping the smooth sides of the ship, clawing at the copper sheathing in desperate agony. But I rose once more in a little oily eddy on the leeward quarter of the vessel, and then I saw that to the stern of the ship was moored a small boat, that was tossing up and down on the sea, now drawn away by the force of the current, again carried almost against the stern-post of the vessel by impact of wind and wave. The swirl of the eddy brought me within a foot or two of the stern. I made one or two desperate strokes, and raising my hand with a last effort, grasped the gunwale of the boat.

With the hope of safety, my heart revived. The boat I might manage to crawl into without assistance. It was no easy matter to do. I felt my way along the side to the stern, and then contrived to get my arms over the gunwale; by resting a little, and trying again when an approaching wave gave me an impulse, I managed, although at the imminent risk of swamping the boat, to crawl into it. It was half-full of water, and threatened at each instant to fill and sink beneath me, and yet it seemed at that moment a most precious ark of refuge.

I rested for a while, stretched out upon the thwarts of the boat, half-dead with chill and fatigue, and yet with a delicious sense of recovered life about me. It would not be difficult, surely, to attract the attention of the people on board the vessel, which, I could make out, was a small brig of untidy, outlandish rig. There was no watch kept on board, it seemed, for nobody appeared in answer to my hail. I shouted and screamed, but no one shewed. But in the stern of the ship was a window, lighting, no doubt, the principal cabin, and from this shone a certain dull gleam, as of a light carefully concealed.

I had wearied myself with shouting, and all my cries would be without avail to wake a sleeping seaman; but an unaccustomed sound might rouse ::

somebody to my assistance. Was there anything in the boat I could throw at the cabin window! Happily, I found, on feeling along the side of the boat, a lot of pebbles lying there, the boat having been used for getting ballast, no doubt; and arming myself with half-a-dozen of these, I began to throw them one by one against the window in the stern. I missed the first two or three'shots; the next I aimed with more force and better direction, for it not only hit the window, but starred one of the panes with a loud crash.

Instantly I heard a shrill scream, which seemed to be a woman's, and voices calling, then somebody rushed on deck with a light. Now was the time to shout again; I hailed my loudest, and presently a man's head appeared over the taffrail rail. There was light enough to see by now, for the mist had cleared, and the night was nowise dark; but the lantern the man carried and slung over the side dazzled both his eyes and mine, so that we could hardly make each other out. It reminded me of the old woman who lit her candle to see if the sun were rising. Still he saw that there was somebody in the boat, and he called out to me in some foreign tongue which was Greek to me, as I subsequently found it must have been in reality.

'For the love of Heaven,' I cried, 'hoist me up into your ship.'

He knew a little English, it seemed, for he rejoined in the same language, garnishing his speech with some of our most characteristic oaths: 'Go long with you; get out of that, you rascal.'

The wretch, so far from being eager to help me, wanted me to jump into the water again, it seemed. With the greatest difficulty, I refrained from flinging a stone at his head-though that wouldn't have been prudent under the circumstances-at the same time I didn't see what else to do. But just then I heard a female voice on deck, pitched in a high key; and a head, wrapped up altogether, except a pair of bright eyes, appeared beside the other. "Eh bien,' it said, que diable allez-vous faire dans cette galère?'

'Oh, Madame,' said I, in the best French I could muster, I am a poor shipwrecked English officer.'

'Oh, if you are English,' she replied, 'yes, certainly, we must help you.-Monsieur le Capitaine, what are you about, to leave this poor gentleman in the cold?' Then she began to rate him in Greek; and the upshot was that he unwillingly set himself to work. In the first place, he loosened the rope, the painter that fastened the boat to the stern, and drew her along the side of the brig till she was under the davit tackles-the apparatus for lowering and raising the boats. These he lowered; and I was sailor enough to be able to hook the tackles on a rope at each end of the boat; and when that was done, the captain, aided by a couple of the crew, who now appeared, hoisted me up to a level with the deck.

'Safe at last,' I said to myself as I stepped on the firm planks, and then I began for the first time to wonder what had become of old Selim the Turk. Was he now feasting in Paradise, ministered to by dark-eyed houris? If so, I felt cold and miserable enough to wish myself in his shoes.

By this time, two or three more of the crew had turned out, and they stood around me, watching me as a colony of cats might an intrusive terrier dog. They were evil-looking ruffians-the sweepings of the Levant, to judge from their countenances-with

dark hair and gleaming eyes, sashes twisted round their waists full of knives and pistols. The leader of them, the fellow the woman had called captain, was a handsome-looking rascal, with long glossy black hair, slender moustache, and well-cut statuesque features. He wore a little scarlet fez stuck on one side of his well-oiled locks, a caftan, and wide breeches, gathered in at the knees. He, too, had his scarf round the waist, a perfect armoury of weapons, the inlaid silver of which glittered in the lamp he still carried.

'What you want here?' he cried. What you do in my ship, you Inglese ?'

'I only want you to put me on board my own ship, the Pera.'

Go on board yourself; you good swimmer; go that way.' He laughed a fiendish kind of laugh, and it was echoed by his comrades.

'I'll pay you well for it,' I cried; 'I will give you money. See!' I said, pulling out my sovereign, by way of convincing proof; 'all this to put me on board my ship.'

'Give me look,' said the captain, and I handed to him my solitary piece of gold. It was examined carefully by the light of the lamp, and passed round from hand to hand. The general impression appeared to be satisfactory.

How many more you give?' cried the captain, not returning the coin.

I shook my head: Got no more,' I cried, slapping my empty pocket. The men looked at each other, and shook their heads too. They didn't look like people who were likely to be moved by motives of benevolence, and having the power of helping themselves to all I had, it seemed hardly likely that they would trouble themselves to put me anywhere but overboard into the sea. They all went forward earnestly talking together. I judged from their gestures that they were debating whether to throw me overboard or despatch me with their knives. Perhaps I took the most gloomy view of the matter, but I hadn't much to expect from these outlandish rascals. They ran no risk in putting me out of the way, and no doubt regarded me as a nuisance, to be abated in the easiest possible manner.

I looked anxiously about the deck. It was lumbered with coils of rope, barrels, broken cases, general rubbish, and lumber. The rigging hung loosely in untidy tangles against the sky. A lamp was burning forwards, about which the crew were clustered, the swarthy, evil-looking faces lit up by its rays. There was no binnacle light and no wheel; instead, a long heavy tiller stretched over the deck, and vibrated to and fro as the vessel swayed to the current. In front of the tiller was the hatchway of the after-cabin. There was a light here too, shaded and subdued. As I looked, a female figure appeared on the stairs, her form just shewing in the hatchway, and intercepting the feeble light that glimmered therefrom.

She looked anxiously along the deck at me and at the group of sailors.

"Oh, Madame,' I said in French, coming forward to the hatchway, 'will you have the kindness to interpret between me and these sailors here? I must be put on board the Pera; any moment I may be too late, and that will be ruin to me.'

"Hush!' she cried; 'I can do nothing. I look to you, mon cher, to you, an English officer, to protect Save me, and take me on board the English

me.

ship, the Pera, and I will kiss your knees, the hem of your garment.'

I had now an opportunity of more narrowly observing this mysterious female. She had thrown aside her yashmak, or veil, and her face, which was looking_upwards, was fully exposed to the moonlight. It was a face that bore traces of beauty, but of beauty that was faded and withered. The mouth was full of decision and power, and seemed to indicate a person of distinction and authority. 'Are you then a prisoner among these ruffians?' I whispered to her. 'I am, and I cannot- See! I will intrust my secret to you, who are an English officer and gentleman: I am the wife of Achmet Pacha.'

As soon as she had said that, I felt that I was acquainted with the situation. The story of the wife of Achmet Pacha was in every one's mouth. Usually, the scandals of the harem are never divulged beyond their own walls, or are only known dimly and by inference and innuendo. But this was a flagrant public matter, that had overpowered the natural reticence and cunning of the Turk. Divested of all extraneous matters, the story simply amounted to this. The pacha and his wife had quarrelled, and the latter had run away. She was the daughter of an Ionian Greek, with a great reputation for beauty and cleverness. Having been born before the cession of those islands to the Greek kingdom, she imagined herself entitled to the privileges of a British subject, and had thrown herself upon the protection of the English ambassador. She had encamped in the court-yard of the Embassy, to the immense disgust and derangement of that stately establishment. The ambassador had, however, decided that she was not entitled to be sheltered under the ægis of the British flag, but she had sufficient notice of his decision to enable her to take refuge in disguise among her own countrymen.

After that, Madame Achmet was lost to sight altogether. The Sublime Porte was furious. She was reported to have carried off jewels of immense value, and papers of the most compromising nature relating to high officials. All the outlets of the city were watched, and every sea-going vessel was searched; but the police force of the Porte have no Inspector Bucket among them, and no one was surprised to find that the lady had, to all appearance, escaped.

But here she was, after all, within the very clutches of her enemies, if they only knew it. Madame told me the history of it in a few words. She had hired this vessel, to take her to Smyrna, I think she said, where she hoped to get on board a French or English ship. But under one pretext or another, they had put off the voyage from day to day. She now believed that they were negotiating her sale to the Porte, through some of their friends on shore. They have heard, too, that I have jewels,' whispered Madame, and they have threatened me about them; but I will never give them up-never!' She here gathered her robes about her with an air of dignity, and revealed the silver handle of a long knife she carried in her girdle.

6

For me, I own that I received her confidence with a very bad grace. My heart was set upon getting on board the Pera, and all the intrigues and mysteries of the Sublime Porte seemed to me a matter of the most trifling consequence compared

with my getting back to Malta to save my leave. I was blind to the romance of the situation, but was very much alive to the danger of it. With such a prize on board, it was hardly likely that this crew of ruffians would permit me to leave the ship, to betray them, possibly, to the authorities. I could do nothing for Madame Achmet, for I couldn't even save my own head.

After my long immersion and struggles in the water, I was faint and weary beyond expression. I was entirely unarmed, and quite at the mercy of these desperadoes. This I told Madame Achmet; and she hid her face in her robe when she heard it. 'Stay!' she said, looking up; 'I will bring you something that shall warm your heart.' She retreated to her cabin, and presently came up again, holding in her hand a little ruby goblet full of some powerful cordial. I swallowed it, and warmth returned to my heart, the blood began to circulate freely over my whole frame.

'Now, if I had a weapon,' I cried, 'I could shew fight.'

Then I heard the stealthy tread of men on the deck. The crew had finished their debate, and were coming aft in a body. The captain broke off from them, and came towards us with a scowling face. He said something to Madame, ordered her down to her cabin, probably, and she retorted vehemently, so that in a moment a fiery quarrel blazed out between the two.

At last the captain seemed to lose all control of his passion; he seized Madame by the shoulders, and endeavoured to thrust her down the steps into her cabin. She screamed to me for help, and although I was very reluctant to mix myself up in her affairs, I could not stand quietly by and see a woman ill treated. I seized the man by the throat, therefore, and pinned him against the hatchway; and as he struggled to get his hand to his sash, to draw some weapon upon me, I gave him a blow or two in the ribs, to quiet him; Madame began to scream; the crew came aft with a rush, and I presently found myself lying on the deck, with halfa-dozen gleaming knives playing about my throat. I did not doubt but that it was all over with me now; and indeed I should probably have been killed there and then, and thrown into the sea, but for the intervention of a new danger, that menaced us all alike. For in the still night, the swift but measured rush of oars could be heard, and a long galley, manned by rowers wearing the uniform of the Padishah, and carrying half-a-dozen or more of armed cavasses of the Porte, could be seen sweeping up to our vessel.

The summary justice of the Porte is still administered in the old rough way in all matters that concern the sacred institutions of the harem. These things are never talked about, but are nevertheless well understood. If those myrmidons of the sultan found on board Madame Achmet and a young English officer, the fate of both would have been quickly decided. The lady in a sack, the gentleman with a cord round his neck, would soon have been food for the fishes of the Bosphorus. And to make all secure, and avoid bother, the ship and her crew would no doubt have been sent to keep us company.

The approach of this galley then seemed to infuse us with a sense of a common danger. Madame retired to her cabin; the crew flung themselves flat on the deck; one of them, with a knife

placed at my throat, menaced me with instant death if I moved or spoke. The captain alone stood upright, pacing to and fro with pallid face, watching the galley as she drew up with rapid strokes.

A stern hail was given from the boat; and the captain, with submissive voice and mien, stood at the bulwarks, and replied to the questions of his interrogator. The end of it seemed to be that the captain was ordered to heave over a rope and lower a ladder at the gangway.

He turned round with a livid face to the crew, as if to seek their advice. Madame's head appeared in the hatchway vehemently signalling to him with her fingers. The galley swept down by the current lay to at the stern of the brig, waiting for the rope to be heaved, for the ladder to be lowered.

In the imminence of the danger, all thought of me had been lost; the man who guarded me had joined his companions in the shadow of the bulwarks, where they whispered together in hurried consultation. The best chance of safety for them, evidently, was in complete submission. They must lose their prize, they must give up their passengers, they must see themselves robbed and plundered by the hated Turk, but they might at least save their skins. So they reasoned, no doubt; and they heaved over a rope, and the galley was presently made fast against the side of the brig.

An English boat's crew would have swarmed up the ship's side in a moment, but the Turks are more leisurely: there was some fuss about rigging out the ladder in the gangway. While this was going on, I heard of a sudden the hoarse roar of steam and the beat of paddle-wheels; and looking over the ship's side, I saw that a big steamer was coming down full speed. She was the Pera. On board that ship a cot was slung for me, there were portmanteaus waiting to supply me with dry warm clothes, a steward with possibilities of hot brandyand-water, and a vista beyond of cool shady barrack-rooms in Malta, warm greetings from comrades, bugle-calls and rolling drums, and the glow of the dear old red coats; and yet all divided from me by a gulf impassable.

Down the tide she came, with stately, steady swing, the steam roaring from her funnels, the lights shining from her portholes casting long pencils of brightness on the waters, churning the waves with her paddles, and leaving behind her a long wake of white boiling foam-a bit of Old England afloat on these alien waves, a bit of the nineteenth century, of warm familiar life; and here was I as completely cut off from it as if I had been a thousand miles away, a thousand years removed. I heard the clash of arms on the other side as the cavasses made ready to mount the vessel's side; I saw the Greek woman standing in the hatchway, with eyes gleaming, pale compressed lips, and a knife held in her clenched hand. Of a sudden a thought struck me-a possible hope of escape both for her and me.

The boat which had been the means of saving me still hung suspended on its davits over the water; I ran to the woman, seized her by the arm, and bade her follow me to the boat. There was no time, nor was I sufficiently acquainted with the process to lower her gradually by the falls; but if, by a simultaneous stroke of the knife, we could sever the ropes that supported her at either end, the boat would drop into the water, possibly

the right side uppermost. The woman divined my purpose in a moment, sprang into the boat at the stern, whilst I placed myself in the bows. Here there was an awkward hitch. I couldn't find my clasp-knife; when I found it, the sea-water had rusted it I couldn't open it; I tore at it with my nails, with my teeth. At last I got it open. Now, if we failed to sever the rope that kept suspended each end of the boat at the same moment, she would drop from one end, and we should be shot headlong into the water. The woman saw this as well as I, and watched every motion of mine with eyes of fire.

We began simultaneously to saw the ropes with our knives. Hers was a large and formidable blade, whilst mine was the ordinary British claspknife. I thought that my advantage of superior strength would be countervailed by the greater efficacy of her weapon; but it seemed that her knife, keen enough at the point, was dull and blunt at the edge: the rope on my side was giving way, and hers was not half sawn through. Only one resource presented itself. Twisting my legs round the foremost thwart of the boat, I held on to the tackles above with my hands, supporting the weight of the boat with my sinews and muscles. Every joint in me cracked, and I was drawn out as one tortured on the rack. I could only sustain this for a moment; but in that moment my partner finished her work; my muscles gave way at the same instant, and we dropped into the water with a tremendous splash, but the right side uppermost. The fall sent us both prostrate into the bottom of the boat; but I recovered myself in a moment, and seizing a pair of oars, which were happily in the boat, I began to pull vigorously athwart the track of the Pera, which was coming down full speed upon us. Heads appeared over the side of the brig, shouts were raised, and shots were fired, the bullets singing about our ears, and raising little spurts of foam around us. These only did us service in attracting the notice of the watch on board the Pera. I saw half-a-dozen heads on the look-out over her bows; but she would never stop for us unless I made her; and fully resolved to gain the deck of the Pera or perish in the sea, I drove the bow of the boat straight into the track of the advancing ship. Men shouted, the captain frantically vociferated; the engines were slackened, stopped, reversed; still I maniacally stuck to the front of the advancing mass. She glided down upon us, we touched her port-side, and cracked like an egg-shell.

A dozen ropes had been thrown over the side, and I grasped one of these like grim death, and was pulled up into the ship. I had no time to think of what became of Madame; but I found afterwards that one of the sailors had caught her clothes with a grappling-hook, and hauled her out of the water like a bundle of rags.

But it was worth all the torture and despair of that night to stand upon the deck of the Pera safe and sound. Madame and I were the subject of a good deal of curiosity, and not a little quizzing on board. It was currently reported that we had eloped from the sultan's seraglio; and a good deal of surprise was insinuated to me by the young men that I hadn't picked out a more blooming specimen. But I kept my own counsel, and have never told the real story to anybody until now. Madame Achmet availed herself of a short stay at

Malta to rig herself out in full European costume, and I had the pleasure of escorting her to the theatre and other places of amusement; she also graciously accepted an invitation to a luncheon given by the officers of our regiment, when she amused us all amazingly by her graphic sketches of eastern life. On leaving for Paris viá Marseille, she presented me with a very handsome diamond, one of the splendid collection of jewels she was fortunate enough to carry off with her; and she gave to our mess a very handsome silver salver, which still remains to bear witness to the truth of this plain unvarnished tale.

WALKS IN SUBTERRANEAN ROME. THREE hundred years ago, there lived in Rome a youth named Antonio Bosio. He was not by birth a Roman; he was a native of Malta, and dwelt at Rome with his uncle. An accidental circumstance gave young Bosio a turn for archæological investigation. One day in 1578, some labourers, digging in a vineyard about two miles out of Rome, came on a cavern which, in remote times, had been used as a place of sepulture. The news of the discovery spread. There were traditions regarding subterranean cemeteries and places of Christian worship, but, except as regards a few crypts connected with churches, any distinct knowledge on the subject was lost. Curiosity was now aroused, and various learned inquiries were instituted. Among all who attempted to prosecute investigation respecting the ancient Roman catacombs, none took up the matter more zealously than Bosio; in fact, he devoted his life to subterranean researches. When he heard of any diggings going on, he flew to the spot, and endeavoured to discover if there was an entrance to any old cavern. If successful, he would, candle in hand, dive into the bowels of the earth to find out the direction of the passages. Occasionally, he ran a serious risk of losing himself; and but for adopting the precaution of carrying a supply of candles, to light one after the other, he would certainly have perished in these dismal, though very interesting, catacombs.

Bosio was an enthusiast. He was also a scholar with cultivated tastes, and his enthusiasm directed him to a pursuit which became the business of his life. From the age of eighteen, he spent six-andthirty years in subterranean explorations, and in writing books about his discoveries. To these works of his, archæologists turn with gratitude and astonishment. His diligence offers a fine example of what may be done by a person possessing the means to devote himself to what is likely to prove instructive and rationally amusing-a lesson to those who dawdle away existence in walking idly about the streets, or, it may be, in degrading frivolities.

It must be admitted that Bosio had a splendid and hitherto uncultivated field of observation. He had the honour of going first into a department which has since had many patient and learned explorers, among whom must notably be mentioned De Rossi, whose works are well known. England has not altogether been behind in adding to the literature of the Roman catacombs. Two years ago, it gave us an invaluable treatise, partly compiled from the writings of De Rossi, styled Roma Sotterranea, by Rev. J. Spencer Northcote, D.D. and Rev. W. R. Brownlow, M.A. Consisting