nd soon discovered an outhouse in which was a
little straw. Rolling some of this into a bundle for a pillow, I lay
down so as not to disturb the sleeping child. Another moment and I too
was steeped in that profound slumber which results from thorough
physical and mental exhaustion.

Lancey went out, shut the door, fastened it, and left us.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE FALL OF PLEVNA.

The events which followed the massacre in the Bulgarian village remain
in my mind, and ever must remain as a confused dream, for I was smitten
that night with a fever, during the course of which--part of it at
least--I was either delirious or utterly prostrate.

And who can tell, save those who have passed through a similar
condition, the agonies which I endured, and the amazing fancies by which
I was assailed at that time! Of course I knew not where I was, and I
cared not. My unbridled fancy led me everywhere. Sometimes I was in a
bed, sometimes on horseback; now in hospital attending wounded people,
most of whom I noticed were women or little children; then on a
battle-field, cheering the combatants with all my power, or joining
them, but, when I chanced to join them, it was never for the purpose of
taking, but of saving life. Often I was visited by good spirits, and
also by bad. One of these latter, a little one, made a deep impression
on me. His particular mission seemed to lie in his power to present
before me, within a flaming frame, pictures of whatever I wished to
behold. He was wonderfully tractable at first, and showed me whatever I
asked for,--my mother, Bella, Nicholas, and many of my friends,--but by
degrees he insisted on showing what I did not wish to see, and among
these latter pictures were fearful massacres, and scenes of torture and
bloodshed. I have a faint recollection of being carried somewhere in a
jolting wagon, of suffering from burning thirst which no one seemed to
care to relieve, of frequent abrupt stoppages, while shouts, shrieks,
and imprecations filled my ears; but whether these things were realities
or fancies, or a mingling of both, I cannot tell, for assuredly the bad
spirit never once succeeded in showing me any picture half so terrible
as those realities of war which I had already beheld.

One day I felt a peculiar sensation. It seemed to me that my
intellectual faculties became more active, while those of my body
appeared to sink.

"Come," said I to the demon who had wearied me so mu