night attack, which he had so carefully and daringly projected.

In another moment we saw this brawny villain standing on the beach, with the light form of Fanny in his arms (but I knew not that the girl was Fanny then); and a sickly terror that she might be Laura palsied every thought and energy. At arms' length he held her up triumphantly above him, and uttered a cry of derision and defiance:

Allah ho Ackbar!'-a cry, half-laugh, half-yell— as he opposed her light and drooping figure to the levelled muskets which we dared not discharge. I sprang into the water, with my claymore in one hand, and a loaded revolver, with a single barrel but having six chambers, in the other. Yet I could not fire a single shot for the same reason that withheld the truer aims of Belton and our soldiers, lest the ball might miss the vulture and hit the dove. Callum Dhu followed me close, with his rifle cocked; but as we advanced from the water, up the sandy and pebbled beach, Zahroun ran hurriedly inland, and while we pursued, once, twice-ay thrice, the dark wood was streaked with light, as pistols were fired from the jungle at us, but happily missed.

Now on a little plateau of rock, in the full blaze of the moonlight, the brawny and bandy-legged figure of Zahroun appeared against the sky in dark and strong outline. He grasped his captive by her hair with his left hand; she was on her knees beside him, and with his right arm held aloft, he flourished a long keen Turkish handjiar, which flashed with a blue gleam, for it is a weapon deadly as the creese of a Malay.

Now, now, foster-brother!' cried I, to Callum Dhu, in Gaelic, by God's love and your mother's bones, fire true!'

He knelt down on one knee, and quick as thought took aim; his keen and hawk-like eye glanced along

the smooth rifle-barrel-there was a flash-a sharp report; the form of Zahroun wheeled frantically round for a moment in the air, and then fell flat beside his rescued prisoner.

6

'Dioul!' said Callum, as he coolly reloaded, and cast about his musket; tha chried mi gu'n d'thoir am fear ad tuille trioblaidh dhuinn!' (The devil! I don't think yonder lout will trouble us more.)

But he was mistaken; for again the figure of Zahroun staggered wildly up, and he fired a pistol at random, and, in revenge, full at us. I felt a sharp twinge in my left side, as if a hot iron had seared me suddenly. I became giddy, and as I tottered, the dread of leaving life and all the world entered my soul, vividly and painfully.

'O, Callum!' I exclaimed, and fell backward into his arms; the villain has shot me!'

A volley rang in my ears as the Highlanders poured all their shot and vengeance on Zahroun, who fell prone to the turf, literally riddled by rifle-balls.

Callum's deadly aim, by bringing this savage down and arresting his upraised knife, had averted a great calamity, and saved the life of Fanny Clavering. Another second had seen our terrified beauty laid at the feet of the galiondgi a corpse.

Fanny knew and felt all she owed to Callum, for she had seen him kneel and aim when others shrank from the perilous task; and as he sprang lightly up the rock, and tenderly raised her, she impulsively threw herself with a burst of transport into his arms; for in a moment she recognized her former acquaint ance and guide over the steep craigs and heath-clad mountains of Glen Ora.

Callum Dhu-Callum Mac Ian!' she exclaimed, ' and you it is who have saved me- -oh Callum, how I shall love you!'

The features of Callum were strongly marked, and bore evidence of deep and bitter thoughts, and of

ready pausions. His eyes were keen, and, by turns, fierce and thoughtful, sad, and winning. His bearing was soldier-like; his moustaches were smartly trimmed; his eyebrows were thick and well defined. Fanny, a constitutional coquette, brought all her batteries to bear upon the handsome Highlander; and the moment that her native spirit of fun and flirtation replaced her terror of death, she would have no other hand and no other arm than those of her 'preserver, her dear, dear old friend Callum,' to conduct her to the yacht, and assist her up the side on board.

There, too, I was conveyed in an almost inanimate state; and the alarm for my safety was greatly increased by the total absence of any medical attend

ance.

I shall not describe the grief of honest Callum, or the terror of Laura Everingham, who during the past conflict had been seated, pale and in tears, in the cabin of the yacht; nor her cry of anguish, on seeing the poor young officer of the Highlanders, who had come so miraculously to their aid, borne senseless and bleeding into her father's cabin; nor shall I attempt to detail her wild glance and speechless astonishment, when the blunt baronet returned to tell her that this unfortunate fellow was no other than Allan Mac Innon, the son of old Glen Ora, the wild Highland boy she had known at home!'

*

* * * *

It was long before poor Laura could realize the truth of this information, or the terrible tidings of Clavering's death, which, after the hurly-burly was over, she learned from Jack Belton and Callum Dhu next morning.

CHAPTER LIX.

A GLEAM OF OTHER DAYS.

THE firing which we had heard on coming in sight of the yacht was caused by Sir Horace, who, to soothe his impatience, had been discharging his carronades. Moreover, from an old Greek pilot, who dwelt on the little isle of Coudouri, he had received some hints, that unless the yacht was speedily got to sea, she might be attacked some night and plundered.

In this affair several of the yachts-men were killed, and several severely wounded; but all the Highlanders escaped, save Donald Roy, who had one of his bare legs slashed by a yataghan; the son of old Ian Mac Raonuil, who received a pistol-shot through the left shoulder, and another lad from my glen, a son of Alisdair Mac Gouran, who was bruised by a musketbutt; but the surgeon of the Mahmoudieh, the Turkish steamer, which came in a day or two after, and who proved to be a clever Milanese, soon put all our cuts and scars right, and pronounced me out of danger, though two of my ribs were broken on the left side, and I was weak as a child from over-excitement and loss of blood. His injunctions moreover were, that I was not to be removed; but there was no chance of that, while Laura and Fanny hovered like guardian angels near my cabin-door, and while the burst of gratitude that swelled the heart of Sir Horace, on finding himself rescued by Her Majesty's troops, and by my personal exertions, remained in his bosom-all aristocratic, externally frigid, and exclusive as it was.

'Removed!' he reiterated, 'no, no-he shall make my yacht his home-and every Highlander shall make it his home. They must remain on board till the schooner returns to Constantinople (she had left it three weeks ago, on her return to England), and I

will be accountable for them all to their commanding officer. I am an M.P., as well as a LieutenantColonel-yes, Lieutenant-Colonel of the gallant South Peddlington Yeomanry, or Prince Alfred's Own Carbineers, the terror of the mining districts.'

Jack Belton and Sergeant Mac Ildhui with twenty men had a hunt-a regular stalking-match-over the island for the fugitive pirates; but not one was to be found; they had all vanished like the three hundred and sixty idols of Mecca, when the prophet waved his enchanted lance. Then Jack conceiving that it would be much more pleasant to proceed to Stamboul in the yacht of Sir Horace, when there were two charming young ladies on board, with the best of good living, prime port, and no end' of pink champagne and hermetically-sealed provisions, than to march on foot from Rodosdchig to Heraclea, and from thence to the Golden Horn, warmly seconded the baronet's grateful invitation, and sent a despatch to Major Catanagh, detailing Sir Horace's wish, and warmly commending his zeal for Her Majesty's service. He also sent the pinnace of the Mahmoudieh for our men's knapsacks, squad bags, and baggage; and while the lubberly Believers, who formed the crew of that imperial steamer, were endeavouring, with all the force of their paddles, engines, and hawser, to drag the yacht into deep water when the tide flowed, Jack was quietly seated in the cabin-about a month after all these troubles-beside Fanny at the piano, turning over the leaves of her music, and gazing sentimentally on her glossy tresses and white hands, while she warbled away, and in a low voice told him how she dared not seek to offer him, a timid love like hers;* ill our matter-of-fact Jack was quite overcome, and the merry Fanny, already recovering from the shock of late events, was filled with laughter at the triumph of her own beauty, and the success of her brilliant coquetry.