"I mean," said I, "where the family of the P's reside."

I was foolish enough to place implicit reliance on his knowledge of where the P's lived. I resolved, therefore, to abandon myself to his guidance, as it was rapidly drawing towards the close of the day. The long clear twilight had set in, and I already began to fear that we should not reach at any reasonable hour. I signified my intention of accepting his offer, and he sprung down and

P-greeted me on the next occasion on which we met, convinced me that he must have cast more than a passing glance at the stranger. Unromantic, however, as the confession may appear, I soon forgot the lovely faces I had seen, even though my fate was destined to be so inseparably linked with theirs, in the conviction that I was very hungry. Quitting the stately rows of houses, and the vast buildings, I struck into what appeared a more lonely part of the city, and advanced through so many narrow streets, with few shops, that I gra-opened the door. When I had entered, and my dually lost all consciousness of what position I was bag was safely deposited with me, he told me that in. I did not know whither I had come, and a it was some distance we should have to go, and kind of despair took possession of my heart. I that perhaps I would wish to be taken to some inn began to wish that I had hailed one of the nume- that night, and proceed early next morning to my rous vehicles driving through the streets, and destination. His sister, he said, had a nice place trusted myself to their guidance. As it was, how-to offer me, as reasonable as any house I could find, ever, there was no help for it, and I resolved to advance steadily forward. At length I came to some narrow passages, where I met more people, but of a dirtier and lower order than any I had yet seen. I found shops hung with what appeared to be rags of clothes, and yet a constant demand seemed to exist for them. The people clamoured and spoke so loud that I trembled. But I had lost my way, and dared not ask of those rough, truculent-looking men and women how to regain it. Some turned to stare as I passed, and some spoke about me. At length I saw a baker's shop -I entered, and found it occupied by a tall, power-city. Once or twice, I fancied we must have been ful man, of the lower order, with large repulsivelooking features, and a sinister expression of coun

tenance.

and he was sure I should be quite comfortable. There was something in the fellow's manner so sinister, that, as he uttered this proposal, I felt my blood curdle. I instantly rejected it, however, and said that unless he would consent to drive me to the villa K-that night, he must suffer me to alight and find some other mode of conveyance. Finding, by my tone, that I was resolute, he affected the most intense desire to comply with my wishes, and, hastily mounting the box, set off at a furious rate up narrow passages, along the broad streets, and through all the most splendid portions of the

continually going in a circular direction, for the same objects met my gaze. At the time, however, I thought that I must be mistaken, for I could imagine no purpose could be served by thus misleading me. By degrees it grew darker and darker, and our pace became slower and slower. I

He was apparently waiting for the owner of the shop, who soon made his appearance, and civilly asked me, in Russman as I concluded, what I wanted. I took up a small loaf, and, imprudently enough, in-thought the outskirts of the town much less attracstead of putting my hand in my pocket in search of a tive than the other portions, for the houses were tall piece of money, took out my purse, which contained and gloomy, while the streets were very narrow. my whole store. It was, thanks to my mother, by Suddenly we came to a halt, and the driver deno means light; on the contrary, it appeared to me scended and entered a door to the right. He stayed to contain an inexhaustible sum. I observed that there a considerable time, and putting my head out the man never took his eyes off me, except to fix of the window I found we were close upon the Nethem upon my purse; and so particular was his in-va, where the waters roll deep and narrowly in their vestigation, that I felt inexpressibly relieved when channel. I remembered then the tales I had heard I had safely quitted the shop. I heard him speak, of the murders perpetrated in those lonely houses at and the tone of his voice was harsh and unpleasant. the river's edge, where bodies have been floated After satisfying my hunger, I turned down a pas-down, but oftener drifted far under the ice, and sage which appeared to lead to some open space, towards what I thought to be one of the quays. But though the sky shone clear beyond, I found there was no thoroughfare in that direction, so I struck into another. I had not gone far when a droshki drove rapidly past me, and then suddenly drew up, and went slowly, almost at a walking pace, along the pavement. I recognised in the driver the man who had sat in the baker's shop, and an indefinite fear stole over me.

never again recognised. I strained my eyes to discover some cheering appearance. There was none. Few strollers passed us, and no one seemed to find anything extraordinary in the fact of a droshki halting in that quarter. I was uneasy and timid. What could the driver want there? Why did he conduct me into this lonely part of the town? Why did he enter that suspicious looking house? My reflections, however, were soon ended by his coming out and suddenly mounting the box. I called He spoke to me in German. Overjoyed at hear-out to him to hasten the speed of his horses, as I ing the sound of my own language, I forgot the was afraid I should be overtaken by night before I repulsive appearance of the man, and replied in the reached my destination. He inquired of me my destination. briefly told him whither I was bound, and asked him if he was acquainted with the villa K"Certainly, certainly," he said, "jump in, and I will drive you there."

same.

I

"Oh, never fear," said he, "I will take you all right." And clack went his whip and off we set. This time he drove very fast for a considerable period of time, and, somewhat reassured by the circumstance, I leaned back in the droshki and dozed off into a

deep sleep. I know not how long I had continued in || thought that possibly I might be wrong in my doubts

my suspicions, though I knew not why. Presently the droshki stopped, and I saw a gate opening into the walled inclosure. Coming up to the door, he said,

this slumber, rendered heavier by all the fatigues and fears, and that I was then wilfully placing myself and anxieties I had undergone, for when I awoke in his power. At length, projecting my head out of I gazed round and round and could perceive no the window, I saw in the distance what appeared to trace of the city. We were on a broad level road. be the white walls of a park or shrubbery. I beheld The moon illumined the country brightly, and now trees rising here and there, but no sign of a house. and then rosedark knots of trees sheathed in its light. This, perhaps, is the villa, said I to myself, and all I could perceive here and there pines and firs dis- my fears will then be at an end. The driver now tinctly revealed, and a few small elevations. Be- slackened his pace, and presently descended and fore me seemed to stretch an extensive plain, bound-walked at the horse's head. Everything aroused ed by a dark ridge of hills clothed with the rich green of pine and fir. Not a sound could be heard. I listened for some human voice; and finding no rustle of leaf, no fall of footstep, no cry, then I thought that we must have been travelling far into the night, for all was as still as death. I feared to speak lest I might hasten my fate, for I now made no doubt that the man was leading me to some retired spot in order to rob and then murder me. The cold horror of those moments I can never forget. Every object I saw is stamped upon my recollection. I could tell every tree I passed; and even those white clouds which hung suspended so airily on high, and seemed so joyously to catch the moonlight upon their edges, have never been forgotten.

I listened with vain hope for some friendly voice. Nothing, however, save the monotonous motion of the wheels upon the hard road, and the half drowsy leaden sound they made, broke upon my ear. The dark form of the driver met my gaze, and the recollection of his sinister face came across my mind and breathed unutterable fear into my soul. Cold drops stood on my brow. At one time my impulse was to spring from the carriage and seek safety by flight, but the impossibility of the scheme scared it away. Then the remembrance of all I had left behind stole over me; and so convinced was I that I should perish, that I breathed a prayer that my mother might never learn my fate. That fate seemed now indeed decided. Yet a faint hope beamed upon my mind now and then. I argued what right had I to mistrust the man, and I tried to reason myself out of my fears. I succeeded so far as to be able to speak to him. I asked him how far we had to go.

"You must alight here."

"Here!" I exclaimed, "in this lonely place!" "Do as I command you," he said.

"I shall do nothing of the kind,” I replied. "You agreed to take me to the villa K, and I shall not alight until you have done so."

This folly is absurd," he answered; "listen to what I say. We are now many miles from St. Petersburg, distant from any habitation, and if you shriek or call out no one will hear your voice. There is not a living soul within miles of us. This is the door of the cemetery, and unless you alight instantly and deliver up your purse to me, I will stab you to the heart and throw you into one of the graves.'

The cold-blooded determination with which this was uttered curdled my whole frame. For a moment or two, I was struck dumb. Not a hope of escape presented itself. I was there alone, at the mercy of a murderer, and there remained nothing for me but to submit. I cannot accurately detail all the thoughts which thronged upon my brain at that moment. Fear was uppermost, but the figures of those I loved stood prominently forward; not, however, far off, but crowding around me, and passing swiftly away. The greatest agitation now took possession of me. I prayed and besought him to have mercy on me, and offered him half my worldly wealth if he would spare my life and take me back. But he would listen to no terms. Selfreproaches rushed over my mind, and mingled bitterly with my fears. Why was I so blind, so foolish, "Not far, not far," he answered; but there was as to accompany the man at all? Why did I sufsomething so mocking in the tone of his voice, that fer my want of courage to prevent my asking I insisted upon his turning back and taking me the advice of some inhabitant of the town, into St. Petersburg. I looked to the right and to stead of trusting myself blindly to this suspicious. the left, and could see no trace of a human habita- looking man? Becoming impatient of my long tion. I told him I was certain he was not in the silence, which was, in fact, the silence of despair, right track. He at first soothed me with promises he roughly seized me by the arm, and dragged me of a speedy arrival. But I could not be re-assured. from the carriage. I had no power to resist. I I trembled from head to foot, and reiterated my was utterly destitute of hope. There was not a wish to be taken to St. Petersburg. He asked me sound near. All in the great solitude around me why I had hired him to take me to the villa K- was echoeless and void. I uttered a long piercing if I had abandoned all intention of proceeding thi- shriek as he flung me on the cold ground, and ther. I half doubted whether I was right in my bade me deliver my purse. A vain desire to suspicions, and tried to calm myself with all the make myself heard overcame me. I repeated my arguments I was capable of, but in vain. Every-shrieks, which he now tried to stifle, by placing thing appeared to become more desolate. A sense his hand over my mouth. I rose to my feet and of greater loneliness oppressed me, and I then aban- fled from him. The door of the cemetery was open, doned myself entirely to despair. I sometimes and I rushed in, pursued closely by my enemy, thought of offering him the whole of my purse if The moon had for some time been disappearing he would return with me to the town, but then I behind a heavy heap of what seemed snow clouds,

All was

and now she utterly deserted me at a most unfortu-|| stoppage of the wheels, and then, for a few brief nate moment, for I stumbled every instant against moments, no sound, no movement came. a grave-stone or mound. I traversed with the still as death! Then, amid the hushed silence, swiftness of lightning those habitations of the dead, arose a sound like that of a man's feet among the not heeding in my terror the little respect I showed grass; I felt he was near! He was searching them. low on the ground. I even heard his breathing above me. It struck me he was searching for his medal; and, grasping the treasure more closely in my hand, I listened with exulting triumph to his prolonged search. At last it seemed as if despair had come over him. He rose ereet, and stood quite still, to detect, if possible, the slightest movement in that solitude. Then, at first slow and hesitatingly, he spoke. The echo of his voice came back to him from all sides. Taking courage, he called again, this time more loudly, and with a tremulous voice besought me to discover myself, and for God's sake to restore him the medal, the loss of which would be his ruin in St. Petersburg. He alternately tried now threats, now persuasions. Sometimes, in the most piteous manner, he begged me to answer him, appealing to my feelings of humanity; but, as he had had none for me, I heard even his sobs with relentless stoicism.

But soon his heavy hand seized me again by the shoulder, and dragged me back. My despair lent me strength. We closed and struggled. I forgot his superior power, and determined to resist death to the last. Upon his breast he wore the medal with his number engraved upon it. Without any object in view but that of avenging myself at the moment, I seized firmly hold of it, and in the struggle I tore it off. This circumstance he did not at the time seem to notice, but, in spite of my resistance, he muttered between his teeth that he would soon end it; and, as I sunk almost exhausted on the ground in that lonely spot, I heard him unclasp aknife. With a startled bound I was on my feet again, and the race for life began in earnest. I flew, rather than ran, with the medal still in my hand. I cared not where I trod. Now I went straight before him, now avoided him by passing in and out the graves. I heard his curses behind every time he missed me. I was now a little in advance of him, but I knew that my strength was failing me. The darkness was thickening, and all the horrors of my position seemed to increase.

Gradually he ceased his threats entirely, and had recourse only to persuasions. I was deaf, however, to all his entreaties, having chosen rather to run the risk of death by starvation in my retreat than to trust myself again in his power. It seemed as though I must in some way that night find my grave, for I could not hide from myself the fact, that the place in which I had sought refuge was a new-made receptacle for the tenement of some departed spirit. As I crouched there what thoughts of eternity filled my soul! The question came across me, What is that

There would be nothing left me but to succumb to my fate, and suffer the villain behind to take the life he sought. Every earthly interest lost its attraction in those moments of despair. I felt my knees failing, my steps slackened in speed, a dizziness came over me, and the consciousness that he was close behind me became certain, when sud-state into which I perhaps this night shall enter? denly a false step on my part precipitated me with a shock several feet down into a chasm, whence the mould had been lately withdrawn. The pain I suffered was acute. I thought I had injured myself beyond hope, but I had sense enough not to ery out. In the midst of the horrible torture I was suffering, from what afterwards proved to be a severely-sprained ancle, I listened with a kind of savage joy, mingled with fear, to the curses of my pursuer, as, stumbling at every step, he went about from spot to spot, calling to me for God's sake to discover myself, for that he meant no harm.

Never did it come with such force upon my mind as when hiding in that little place from the revengeful cruelty of a man I had never injured. Deep thoughts of regret, undefined hopes of the unknown future, flashed across me. Death seemed my companion. I felt his presence around. Within a few yards, perhaps a few feet of me, the marrowless bones and decaying form of many a ghastly corpse were mouldering away minute by minute, until in the process they became blended utterly with the earth out of which they sprung. I pictured to myself every horror connected with death from the moment when the shrouded body feels the first touch of the cold earth to the last, when all trace, save a few bleached bones, is lost of the image once moving upon the face of the universe, made glorious by the soul God gave it, but now shrunken to an atom by the withdrawal of the pervading and sustaining essence of life.

The sounds of his footsteps became fainter and more faint, and I thought that, tired of the chase, he had left me altogether. In a few moments the sounds of wheels on the road fell on my ear. I heard them proceed rapidly in the direction we had come, and, with a feeling akin to happiness, I felt myself alone. I knew not how long I continued listening to the receding wheels, but at last the sound ceased altogether. And then, just as I was about to abandon myself to a kind of security, I fancied I again heard them rolling in my direction. The fear of discovery now possessed me. "Surely, if he returns, he will murder me." I listened, with a trembling terror which I can scarcely express, to the sounds as they became gradually more and more distinct. Nearer and nearer they came, until my agitation almost rendered me delirious. I held my breath as I heard the fatal is commanded never to appear without his medal,

The numbing cold of the air, the dark atmosphere, the offensive effluvia of the mould, did not conspire to raise my spirits. A pang of acute pain every now and then sent a thrill through my frame. At length I heard the retreating footsteps of my pursuer, as he still groped about the cemetery in search of his victim, become fainter and fainter, until I lost them altogether. I dared not move. I suspected he was

* On pain of severe punishment, the Russian droshki driver

lying in wait for me somewhere, hoping to lull me to the cemetery to complete a grave commenced the into security by his absence. But a strange sensa- previous day, had discovered me there. The villa tion I never before experienced came over me. AK being the nearest house, they had borne me confusion of thoughts rushed over my brain. My thither; and when I told my story to the kind mowhole lifetime swam before me in uneasy motion. ther of my pupils, she expressed the greatest comNow one event reappeared, now another washed it misseration for me. Though I had suffered great away, and it sank in the great ocean of remem- bodily pain, and much mental anxiety, I never had brance. My mother, my sisters, my father even, any reason to regret the circumstance by which my stood around me. I gazed up into heaven; I fancied acquaintance with the P family was brought it illumined brilliantly. Then a mist came over my about. I was really in a new home, and the atteneyes, and I knew no more what had happened. tion with which I was treated soon restored the bloom to my cheeks. In the joy of being restored to safety, I forgot all thoughts of revenge, and refused to aid in bringing to justice my enemy. The younger P-— is now my husband. How he be came so can only be explained by a chain of eircumstances upon which it is needless now to enter. Years after I recognised, in the face of one of the exiles on their way to Siberia, the repulsive countenance of the Russian droshki-driver. Thither he was proceeding to expiate a multitude of crimes he had committed.

*

*

I

When I again awoke to consciousness, I felt myself borne along as dead, and opening my eyes found several persons carrying me up what appeared the avenue leading to a mansion. I cared not what became of me. I was conscious of intense pain, and I fainted away immediately. When I was again restored to consciousness it was to find myself on a sumptuous bed, and with a kind nurse tending my wants. My ancle was comparatively free from pain, and I afterwards learnt that some labourers, in going

THE EXPEDITION OF ALEXANDER TO THE OASIS OF JUPITER AMMON.

There seems to us to have been yet another motive for Alexander's visit to the Oasis, which none of his historians, ancient or modern, has yet, so far as we are aware, discovered. He knew that a great part of the prosperity of Egypt depended upon commerce; and as his ambition was not purely military, but embraced every form of civilization, he was desirous of laying open the route to the

ONE of the most singular incidents in the history || phy and the spirit of Grecian politics had rendered of Alexander the Great is his visit to the temple of it so difficult to inspire. Jupiter Ammon. What it was undertaken for everybody knows. Dissatisfied with being reputed the son of Philip, the great leader of the Macedonians resolved to discover for himself a greater father; and fixed, for this purpose, on no less a personage than the Ammon of the Egyptians. In developing a great system of conquest, men have employed different instruments, according to the character of the age in which they lived. Alexan-interior of Africa, and probably of extending his der placed much reliance on superstition; and had his lot been cast in earlier times, when the primitive faiths of nations had as yet received no wound from scepticism, there can scarcely be a doubt that not only would the story of his celestial parentage have obtained credit, but he himself would have been raised to the rank of a divinity, and received the adoration of the whole Pagan world.

dominion over the whole of that continent. But as in antíquity an intense dread of the dangers to be encountered in the desert already prevailed, he wished to make an experimental march through & portion of the wilderness, that, with his own eyes, he might ascertain the real state of the case, and afterwards abandon or carry out his design, according as this attempt should prove fortunate or otherwise.

But the son of Philip found himself cramped, in the development of his genius, by the sarcastic in- The ancients, though not quite so ignorant as we credulity of the times. The philosophers had been suppose them, were yet far from being acquainted so long and so successfully engaged in a war with with the geography of Africa. Unknown regions, Olympus, that the gods and godesses, once so in- as well as unknown powers, are apt to inspire dread; genuously believed in, had been obliterated almost and their imagination consequently peopled the entirely from the thoughts of men, and come to be wastes of Lybia with monsters, and chimeras, and regarded as mere poetical creations, pleasant to invisible influences destructive of human life. Poets read about, but nothing else. Alexander, however, do not always invent. They often only give expres determined upon making trial of whether it were sion to popular opinion. We may judge, therefore, possible to revive a decayed superstition. He pre-of the degree of awe with which the African wil tended devoutly to believe in his own divine origin; and, after the battle of Issus, and the conquest of Syria and Egypt, while the whole civilised world was resounding with his name, and illuminated, as it were, by the glory of his victories, he seized on what appeared to him the auspicious moment for consulting the greatest oracle in Africa, in order to impress his troops and subjects generally with that profound reverence for his person which philoso

derness had inspired the civilised natures of those ages by the fabulous horrors which the fancy of poets spread like a cloud over the whole interior. Alexander himself, though the disciple of Aristotle, and nurtured to a certain extent in scepticism, was not altogether proof against the spirit of his age. Incredulity by no means implies the absence of superstition. A man may, by study, uproot from his mind the religious creed of his contemporaries;

but, while engaged in this process, may suffer his || which, being received in water-tight tanks, may, imagination to be impregnated by other principles by artificial means, be preserved from evaporation, no less at variance with philosophy. Paganism, and distributed over the country, so as to convert the in its loftier and more poetical forms, died out with otherwise fleeting dust into a prolific soil. At the the republics; but there still remained in Macedo-present hour the southern and eastern skirts of the nian times an invincible faith in terrestrial wonders, in miracles of physical nature, and whatever appeared to lie beyond the boundaries of mere national traditions.

Lybian desert are in many places fringed with vegetation, where the peasants retain sufficient courage to develop their industrial instincts. Water is conveyed from the Nile through small channels, and distributed over the sand, which, while moist, is sowed with the seed of cucerbitaceous plants, which, creeping, and spreading around their large thick leaves, assist in retaining moisture in the soil. It was the same plan, doubtless, which was followed in this part of Marmarica. Melons, water-melons, gourds, cucumbers, pumpkins, prepared the way Gardens were for vineyards and palm groves.

For this reason, Alexander's army could scarcely, by any authority, have been induced to undertake an expedition to the desert for political purposes. But over these rude men, though not over their leaders, Paganism exerted an irresistible sway. What religion commanded, they would cheerfully undertake; so that, when their general gave out that his design was to consult the oracle, a lively enthusiasm was kindled among his followers, who un-everywhere formed in the hollows, vineyards on the murmuringly prepared to accompany him. Unfortu- slopes, until cultivation had imparted a second life nately, the historians of antiquity, with the excep- to the soil, which was further enriched by the contion, perhaps, of Herodotus, are little apt to indulge gregation and presence of men and animals. in explanations; so that events and circumstances which would be perfectly intelligible if we knew in what they originated, and how they were brought about, now, at this distance of time, appear marvellous, or altogether past belief. We are told, however, that the escort-for it seems to have been nothing more--which accompanied Alexander to Ammonium, carried a supply of water and provisions on camels; and that, through accident or negligence, they were, at the end of four days, nearly perishing with thirst, and would in all likelihood have been cut off but for the timely occurrence of a storm of rain.

Those whose experience of the desert has been acquired much further inland are surprised to hear of rain, and almost inclined to treat it as a fable. But Mr. Bayle St. John,* the latest traveller who has visited the Oasis, and, with the exception of Browne, the only Englishman who has ever been at Siwah, speaks, in his highly interesting and instructive work, of vast cisterns, tanks, and reservoirs cut in the solid rock, which in old times retained the produce of the showers for the purpose, chiefly, of irrigation. But this system would not appear to have been adopted so early as the age of Alexander of Macedon. It was apparently at a much later period, when the Greek colonies of Cyrenaica had been filled with a hardy and enterprising population, that the idea suggested itself of extending the domains of agriculture over these seemingly sterile wastes. Experience had taught them that, in Africa, wherever there is moisture there is fertility; and that, consequently, by the aid of irrigation, the desert may be made to bloom like the rose. They also discovered that, for at least one hundred and fifty miles from the Mediterranean, rain falls constantly at certain seasons of the year in lesser or greater quantities,

Adventures in the Lybian Desert and the Oasis of Jupiter Ammon." By Bayle St. John. London: Murray. 1849. The style of this volume is easy, polished, and elegant, and its descriptions full of freshness and poetry. There is no redundancy. Every word used is introduced for a special purpose; and the reader, when arrived at the end, wishes it were twice as long. This is praise which can be bestowed on very few books indeed, but the Adventures in the Lybian Desert" highly deserve it.

No historical record remains of the manner in which these wastes of sand were rendered prolific; but, by studying the processes elsewhere followed, and carefully considering the remains of civilization still existing, we may form what will probably be a tolerably correct idea of the extent to which tillage was carried, as well as of the manner in which it was pursued. Mr. Bayle St. John is a very able and careful observer, and, while following in the track of Alexander the Great, was not so dazzled by the glory of his military exploits as to neglect the relics of the less showy but more valuable arts of peace. His researches in this part of the desert throw great light on Alexander's movements. Travelling much more slowly than the Macedonians, he and his companions had leisure to observe, and would appear to have been particularly attentive in studying, every circumstance which could throw light on this the wildest of all the expeditions of the conqueror of Darius. Historians in the later ages of Grecian literature had relinquished the system of Herodotus and Thucydides; they no longer judged it necessary to visit the regions they described, to converse with and live among the people whose manners and institutions they undertook to illustrate, but, like the mere literateurs of the present day, contemplated mankind through their libraries; and, when they had arranged a few polished periods, and connected together the ideas supplied by others, imagined they had written history.

For this reason, it is impossible to institute a comparison between the condition of Marmarica, or even of Ammonium itself, in those days, with the state in which we now find them. But then, as now, there were Bedawins in the desert. Further to the west, there were Mogrebins and Berbers, with other tribes now extirpated by war or lost by War also, it would the admixture of races. seem, formed the favourite amusement of these independent tribes, though they would appear to have applied themselves with much diligence to trade and commerce, and all the processes of industry practicable in such climates and under such governments as they enjoyed. As from the eastern,