coachman to drive on the Belgrade road instead
of turning towards Pera. The negro started violently when he heard the
order given, and I thought he put out his hand to take the handle of the
door; but my own was in the hanging loop fastened to the inside of the
door, and I knew that he could not open it. The road indicated by
Gregorios leads through the heart of the Belgrade forest.

The fierce north wind had moderated a little, or rather, as we drove up
the thickly wooded valley, we were not exposed to it as we had been upon
the shore of the Bosphorus and on the heights above. Overhead, the
driving clouds took a silvery-gray tinge, as the last quarter of the
waning moon rose slowly behind the hills of the Asian shore. The bare
trees swayed and moved slowly in the wind with the rhythmical motion of
aquatic plants under moving water. I looked through the glass as we
drove along, recognizing the well-known turns, the big trees, the
occasional low stone cottages by the roadside. Everything was familiar
to me, even in the bleak winter weather; only the landscape was
inexpressibly wild in its leafless grayness, under the faint light of
the waning moon. From time to time the Lala moved uneasily, but said
nothing. We were ascending the hill which leads to the huge arch of the
lonely aqueduct which pierces the forest, when Balsamides tapped upon
the window. The carriage stopped in the road and he opened the door on
his side and descended.

"Get down," he said to Selim. I pushed the negro forward, and got out
after him. Balsamides seized his arm firmly.

"Take him on the other side," he said to me in Turkish, dragging the
fellow along the road in the direction of a stony bridle-path which from
this point ascends into the forest. Then Selim's coolness failed him,
and he yelled aloud, struggling in our grip, and turning his head back
towards the coachman.

"Help! help!" he cried. "In the name of Allah! They will murder me!"

From the lonely road the coachman's careless laugh echoed after us, as
we hurried up the steep way.

"It is a solitary spot," observed Balsamides to the terrified Selim.
"You may yell yourself hoarse, if it pleases you."

We continued to ascend the path, dragging the Lala between us. He had
little chance of escape between two such men as we, and he seemed to
know it, for after a few minutes he submitted quietly enough. At last we
reached an open space among the rocks and trees, and Balsamides stopped.