rse lying about somewhere: it would come in very handy just
now."

"You forget that its virtue ended with his life," answer I; "and,
moreover, the illustrious man didn't live here, but at Famagosta, farther
along the coast, where, I dare say, the first Greek you meet will show
you 'ze house of Signor Fortunato,' and the original purse to boot, all
for the small charge of one piastre."

Our landing is beset by the usual mob of yelling vagabonds, eager to
lighten our pockets by means of worthless native "curiosities," "antiques"
manufactured a month before, or vociferous offers to show us "all ze fine
sight of ze town, ver' sheap." Just as we have succeeded in fighting our
way through the hurly-burly a venerable old Smyrniote with a long white
beard, in whom we recognize one of our fellow-passengers on the steamer,
accosts us with a low bow: "Want see ze old shursh, genteelmen? All ze
Signori Inglesi go see zat. You wish, I take you zere one minute."

"All right!" shouts P---- with characteristic impetuosity: "I'm bound to
see all I can in the time. Drive on, old boy: I'm your man."

Away we go, accordingly, along the deep, narrow, tunnel-like streets,
flanked on either side by tall blank houses such as meet one at every turn
in Cairo or Djeddah or Jerusalem, between whose projecting fronts the
sunny sky appears like a narrow strip of bright blue ribbon far away
overhead, while all below is veiled in a rich summer twilight of purple
shadow, like that which fills the interior of some vast cathedral. But
ever and anon a sudden break in the ranked masses of building gives us a
momentary glimpse of the broad shining sea and dazzling sunlight, which
falls upon many a group that a painter would love to copy--tall, gaunt
Armenians, whose high black caps and long dark robes make their pale,
hollow faces look doubly spectral; low-browed, sallow, bearded Russians;
brawny English sailors, looking down with a grand, indulgent contempt upon
those unhappy beings whom an inscrutable Providence has doomed to be
"foreigners;" stolid Turks, tramping onward in silent defiance of the
fierce looks cast at them from every side; sinewy Dalmatians, with
close-cropped black hair; dapper Frenchmen, with well-trimmed moustaches,
casting annihilating glances at the few ladies who happen to be abroad;
and barefooted Greeks, with little baskets of fruit or fish perched on
their heads--ragged, wild-eyed and brigand-like as the lazzaroni who rose
fro