, derived from another land, and I might even regard
myself as the maker of my own fortune.

How little thought did I bestow on my wound, as I mounted my horse on
that mellow day of autumn! How indifferent was I to the pang that shot
through me as I touched the flank with my leg! Our road led through a
thick forest, but over a surface of level sward, along which we galloped
in all the buoyancy of youth and high spirits. An occasional trunk lay
across our way, and these we cleared at a leap--a feat which I well
saw my Hungarian friends were somewhat surprised to perceive gave me
no trouble whatever. My old habits of the riding-school had made me a
perfect horseman; and rather vain of my accomplishment I rode at the
highest fences I could find. In one of these exploits an acute pang shot
through me, and I felt as if something had given way in my leg. The pain
for some minutes was so intense that I could with difficulty keep the
saddle, and even when it had partially subsided the suffering was very
great.

To continue my journey in this agony was impossible; and yet I was
reluctant to confess that I was overcome by pain. Such an acknowledgment
seemed unsoldierlike and unworthy, and I determined not to give way. It
was no use; the suffering brought on a sickly faintness that completely
overcame me. I had nothing for it but to turn back; so, suddenly
affecting to recollect a despatch that I ought to have sent off before
I left, I hastily apologised to my companions, and with many promises to
overtake them by evening, I returned to Komorn.

A Magyar groom accompanied me to act as my guide; and, attended by this
man, I slowly retraced my steps towards the fortress, so slowly, indeed,
that it was within an hour of sunset as we gained the crest of the
little ridge, from which Komorn might be seen, and the course of the
Danube as it wound for miles through the plain.

It is always a grand and imposing scene, one of those vast Hungarian
plains, with waving woods and golden cornfields, bounded by the horizon
on every side, and marked by those immense villages of twelve or even
twenty thousand inhabitants. Trees, rivers, plains, even the dwellings
of the people, are on a scale with which nothing in the Old World can
vie. But even with this great landscape before me, I was more struck by
a small object which caught my eye as I looked towards the fortress. It
was a little boat, covered with an awning, and anchored in the middle of