The summit of St. Hilarion is 3340 feet above the sea, from which, in a direct line, it is not three miles distant. The cliffs are quite perpendicular in some places for several hundred feet, and the greatest care has been taken to perch the towers and walls upon the extreme verge. Although from the base of the mountains at Kyrenia the castle appears to occupy an impregnable position, it can be easily approached by one of those rough paths in the rear which can be scrambled over by the Cyprian mules. I am afraid that my willing animal grumbled somewhat at my weight, as it was obliged to halt for breath seven or eight times before we reached a secluded little dell among the mountain tops, from which the path ascended by steep zigzags, directly through the entrance of the old fortification. This narrow dell, hidden among the surrounding crags about 2800 feet above the sea, was entirely cropped with barley, and the people who owned the plot resided in a cave that had been arranged for a habitation for themselves and animals. On the ridge before we descended into this vale the view was magnificent, as two lofty crags formed a natural frame for the picture within. Between these rugged peaks of silvery grey limestone, tinted by ferruginous rocks with various shades of red and brown, we looked down a precipice beneath our feet upon the blue sea, the snow-capped mountains of Caramania in the distance, and the rich border of our own shores covered with green trees, gardens, fields, and clustering villages: in the centre of which was the fort and harbour of Kyrenia. I could just distinguish our white tents among the caroub-trees far beneath. To complete this superb landscape there should have been a few sails upon the sea; but all was blue and barren, without signs of life. The castle of St. Hilarion stood before us on the left as we faced the sea, and the towers occupied the peaks within less than a quarter of a mile of our position. Continuing along the narrow vale, a mountain-top upon our left-hand, which sloped to the path upon which we rode, appeared slightly higher than the extreme summit of the castle peak; the sides of this steep slope were covered with dwarf cypress and occasional young pines, and it was clear that St. Hilarion would be commanded by a battery upon these heights, or even by the fire of modern rifles. Ascending the zigzag path among blocks of fallen stone, which had rolled from the partially dismantled walls, we entered the gateway, and at once perceived the great extent of the old fortress. The entire mountain-top is encircled by a high wall, flanked at intervals by towers, and crenellated for archers or cross-bowmen. Although the opposite mountain would by artillery fire completely command the inner and lower portion of the works, which we had now entered, the distance would have been far beyond the range of catapults or arrows at the time when the defences were erected. The error appeared to have been in the great area of the