One morning the Pasha came into the barn where Smith was alone at work. The malicious Turk fell to sneering at his slave as usual and when the latter, goaded beyond endurance, replied with spirit, the Pasha struck him across the face with a riding whip. Smith’s threshing bat whistled through the air, and at the first blow the brutal Timariot lay dead at the feet of his slave. There was not an instant to be lost. It was by the merest chance that Smith was alone. The overseer might return at any moment. Stripping the body of the slain Pasha and hiding it under a heap of straw, Smith threw off his goat-skin and hurriedly donned the Turkish costume. He loosed the horse which the Turk had ridden to the spot, sprang into the saddle and galloped at random from the place. Smith’s first impulse was to ride as fast as possible in the opposite direction to Nalbrits, and this he did, continuing his career until night overtook him. He entered a wood at some distance from the road and there passed the hours of darkness. He never failed to keep a clear head in the most critical emergencies and in the haste of departure had not neglected to secure the Pasha’s weapons and to snatch up a sack of corn from the threshing floor. The latter would preserve his life for some time and with the former he proposed to sell it dearly if overtaken. He had no idea as to what direction to take in order to reach a Christian community. Daybreak found him in this condition of perplexity, and he resumed his wandering flight with less impetuosity and a careful regard to avoid every locality that appeared to be inhabited. At a distance his costume might prove a protection, but on closer inspection a beholder could not fail to note the iron collar that proclaimed him a slave. Smith had ridden about aimlessly for three days and nights, not knowing where he was nor how far from Nalbrits, when he suddenly chanced upon one of the great caravan roads that traversed Asia and connected with the main highways of Europe. He knew that if he followed this road far enough westward he must come eventually into some Christian country, but caution was more necessary than ever, for these were much travelled routes. He concluded to skirt the road by day and ride upon it only after dark. At the close of the fourth day after his escape he came to the meeting point of several crossroads and then learned the peculiar method employed by the people of those parts to direct travellers. The sign posts were painted with various designs to indicate the directions of different countries. For instance, a half moon pointed to the country of the Crim Tartars, a black man to Persia, a sun to China, and a cross--which our hero perceived with joy--distinguished the road leading to the Christian realm of Muscovy, the Russia of today.