Well, they started; it was a Tuesday, and several days dragged their slow length along, without any tidings of the absentees. Saturday morning came, and brought a throng of mountain women to market, unaccompanied, for the first time, by their husbands. Spira was there, and delighted to see me, but even to her I could not hint my troubles, as the good understanding then existing between Austria and England and the Turks, was a very sore subject to a Montenegrin. So I replied but vaguely to her inquiries after my lord and master, and begged to know why hers had not made his appearance as usual.
“Oh, your Excellency, he is much better employed,” she replied, “than coming down here to buy salt; have you not heard? has nobody told you the new outrage committed by those Turkish dogs? our deadly foe, the Pasha of Scutari, without notice or warning, has attacked our Bishop’s island fort of Lessandro, at the head of the Scutari lake, and taken it; ten of our men have been killed, my father’s brother’s son amongst them, and ten taken prisoners. The Bishop is mad about it, and Basil and all the picked men are flocking to him. The Pasha himself is at Lessandro,” added Spira, “may a bullet from our Vladika’s rifle whiz through his brain shortly! But what ails your Excellency? you shiver like our silver aspen leaves.”
I did indeed feel great disquiet at the thought of the wild work my husband might be witnessing, and finding Spira’s conversation too warlike to suit my taste, walked homewards slowly, bidding her follow with the marketings. In our sitting-room I found Mr Popham!
He came up and took my two hands in his, as if he had been the friend of a lifetime, instead of the acquaintance of an evening.
“I think, I hope he is safe,” he said, looking very white.
“How safe?” I asked; “tell me all, Mr Popham, if you please.”
“I will,” he answered; “it is a flesh-wound in the shoulder, nothing of consequence, on my honour; he bade me tell you so, with his love.”
“Am I to understand that you have left Mr Englefield wounded?” I asked; it never struck me, in my consternation, that I had worded the question harshly, till I saw Mr Popham’s look of deep distress. There was not the least anger in the crimson glow that suffused his face, nor in his voice as he huskily answered: “I deserve this for my cruel ingratitude towards him at Ragusa, but, on my honour, Mrs Englefield, I am not to blame for leaving him now, nor shall I know rest till I am again at his side.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I answered; “we will lose no time in going to him; and now, let me hear some particulars.”
“We reached Scutari all right,” said Mr Popham; “the Pasha had just left it to attack a fort belonging to the Prince of the Black Mountain; so we followed, and reached the camp just as the fort was being stormed. That evening we had an audience of the Pasha, in which Englefield laid the whole matter before him; he spoke us fair, and promised help, but it was all a sham, a regular sham; you will not wonder this when I tell you that Orlando Jones, unseen by us was at the Pasha’s elbow, bribing, cringing, and sticking at nothing to gain his ends! It seems the wretched man has long been in communication with the Turks, and has now adopted the Mussulman creed and dress. In requital, a lucrative post has been conferred on him.”