Never were words more expressive of what is passing around us daily in the world, even in its most matter-of-fact scenes and phases of life. Many a deep and bitter romance is occurring beside us, amid the bustle of the railway train; on the deck of the departing steamer; with the regiment embarking for foreign service, or with the disbanded soldier returning to search for his parent's cottage, and finding perhaps a manufacturing town, where he had left a rural village; amid the hum of the streets, in the brilliance of the crowded ball-room—in all these are thoughts and wishes, fears and aspirations, known only to Him who reads the hearts of all. Hence though my autography may seem a romance to the reader, it is a true and painful history to me.
Thus, as I have related, on the very day the late treaty of Peace was signed at Paris—to wit, the 30th March, 1856, or according to the Mohammedan Hejira, 1271—Callum Dhu and I found ourselves inmates of a Turkish Bagnio, an event of much more importance to us than the definement of the Bessarabian frontier, the fall of Sebastopol, or the acceptance of the "five points" by Russia.
We were thrust into a large, vaulted apartment, in the sunk or ground-floor of the fortress. It was damp, and pervaded by an atmosphere so fœtid, hot, and humid, that for a time it was all but overpowering, and denied us free respiration. A dim iron lantern hung from a pillar on one side, and shed a cold and wavering light into the misty dungeon, which was half seen and half sunk in shadow.
This darkness seemed dotted at certain distances by swarthy visages, fiercely browed and blackly bearded, with wild gleaming eyes; and on our British uniforms being seen, the clanking of chains rang on all sides, with incessant yells of
'Bono Johny!'
'No Bono!'
'Barek-allah—no Bono!'
And after a time, Callum and I could perceive that we were surrounded by about fifty prisoners, all of whom were chained to the four walls, and almost within arms length of each other.
'Ingleez! Ingleez!' shouted one.
'Giaours of Frangistan!'