h, he began to
take interest in the curious sights and sounds that greeted him on every
side, and his mind was thus a little taken off himself.

And there was indeed much there to interest a youth who had never seen
Eastern manners or customs before. Narrow and steep though the streets
were--in some cases so steep that they formed flights of what may be
styled broad and shallow stairs--they were crowded with bronzed men in
varied Eastern costume; Moors in fez and gay vest and red morocco
slippers; Turks with turban and pipe; Cabyles from the mountains; Arabs
from the plains; water-carriers with jar on shoulder; Jews in sombre
robes; Jewesses with rich shawls and silk kerchiefs as headgear; donkeys
with panniers that almost blocked the way; camels, and veiled women, and
many other strange sights that our hero had up to that time only seen in
picture-books.

Presently the band of captives halted before a small door which was
thickly studded with large nails. It seemed to form the only opening in
a high dead wall, with the exception of two holes about a foot square,
which served as windows. This was the Bagnio, or prison, in which the
slaves were put each evening after the day's labour was over, there to
feed and rest on the stone floor until daylight should call them forth
again to renewed toil. It was a gloomy courtyard, with cells around it
in which the captives slept. A fountain in the middle kept the floor
damp and seemed to prove an attraction to various centipedes, scorpions,
and other noisome creatures which were crawling about.

Here the captives just arrived had their bonds removed, and were left to
their own devices, each having received two rolls of black bread before
the jailor retired and locked them up for the night.

Taking possession of an empty cell, George Foster sat down on the stone
floor and gazed at the wretched creatures around him, many of whom were
devouring their black bread with ravenous haste. The poor youth could
hardly believe his eyes, and it was some time before he could convince
himself that the whole thing was not a dream but a terrible reality.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE BAGNIO--OUR HERO SEES SOMETHING OF MISERY, AND IS SOLD AS A SLAVE.

There are some things in this world so unbelievable that even when we
know them to be true we still remain in a state of semi-scepticism.

When our unfortunate midshipman awoke next morning, raised himself on
his elbow, and felt that all his