Mary was once more clasped in his arms, safe and at liberty. No time however was to be lost, and catching the horse as soon as he could, he fixed Mary securely behind him, and quite in the style of Gayferos, as celebrated by master Peter in Don Quixote, he set out, carrying his bride away from the hands of the infidels.

The next thing was to consider which way they ought to go; no moon was in the sky; the night was exceedingly dark; and as to choosing a safe path, Charles was obliged to leave that to the discretion of his horse; the only thing that he could do being to direct him as well as he could towards the village from whence they had set out in the morning; and this he was enabled to do with some degree of accuracy, for his friendly stars had not deserted him; one in particular, which he had often observed shining with a peculiar lustre to the south of Corfu, now served them as a bright guide towards the seashore; and the horse being a horse of good

common

common sense, finding his head turned in a way that he had been accustomed to go, did not fail to keep the beaten track, without deviating into the more romantic parts of the country, which might have gratified his taste for the picturesque, but would not have been so convenient for his hoofs.

Charles was not at all sorry for the darkness, which concealed the direction of their flight; but after an hour-and-a-half's riding as fast as they could go, the moon rose brightly over the continent of Greece; and nothing could be more gratifying to the fugitives than to find themselves on the shore, and to behold the calm Ionian sea rippling like an ocean of melted silver in the clear light of the planet. To them it spoke of safety, and their hearts beat high to reach the blue island, of which they caught a faint lumen in the distance. Winding along the seashore, they at length came to the village they had left in the morning, and perceiving a light in

one of the houses, Charles lifted his poor fatigued Mary from the horse, and throw ing the bridle over his arm, proceeded towards the cottage.

The sound of their horse's hoofs had already spread the alarm, and the door was opened by an old Greek, whose terrified countenance expressed his apprehension of a new visit from the Turks. Charles's European dress however relieved the old man of his fears, and as soon as he recognised the stranger who had been there in the morning, the young man who spoke Italian was sent for. A great number of the villagers assembled, and a thousand questions were put concerning their unfortunate companions. Of course Charles could not tell them what was their actual fate, and he did not choose to communicate his suspicions, but demanded in turn what had become of his boatmen. These proved luckily to be still there, and he desired them to get ready as soon as possible.

The

The boatmen were very willing to go: the Greek villagers were very glad to get rid of the whole party; Charles and Mary were all anxiety to depart; and in half an hour from the time of their arrival, they were on board, and had got clear of the shore. Whether they were pursued or not, they never correctly ascertained, but Charles was led to imagine that such was the case, from a noise and bustle on the shore immediately after they had put to sea, which seemed to indicate that their escape had been made but in good time. They however were now safe, and sitting with her hand clasped in that of her cousin, Mary enjoyed, during their progress over the waves, that calm silent repose of happiness which succeeds, when danger and sorrow have passed away, and left peace and security behind.

It was the first dawn of day when they reached the island, and on returning home, they found that lady Anne had not been nearly so much alarmed for their safety as

they had expected, in consequence of some Greek boatmen who had seen them land at the village during the storm having assured her of their safety; but when she heard all that had happened, she accused herself for having suffered Mary to go, and Mary for having gone, and Charles for having persuaded her; and finally vowed that she would return directly to England, and never again set her foot out of her native country while she breathed.

Neither Charles or Mary very strenuously opposed her determination, for to each a return to England proffered infinitely more of pleasure than any prolongation of their stay abroad. There all Charles's hopes were centred; and Mary was anxious to rejoin her brother.

During her separation from Charles, she had been kept a strict prisoner to the harem of the pacha; but from her ignorance of the language, was not so well calculated to investigate all its secrets as lady Mary Montague; neither indeed did her

agitation