"Do you know what Dariel is?" Nicolo was smiling in a genial manner at my levity. And then he said, to crush it in a truly British manner, "Dariel is the heiress to the throne of Georgia. She has the pink eagle on her left shoulder." "But there is no throne of Georgia now," I answered, quite uncrushed, for she might have been heiress to the throne of all the stars, without mounting any higher than she already was with me; "the Russians have got Georgia, and who shall ever turn them out?" This will show how I had got up my subject. A month ago Georgia, for all I knew or cared, might have been the property of our former George the Fourth, or still the prize of victory for Saint-George and the Dragon. "You take things as quietly as your brother Harold does. Ah, yes! it must be in the family, no doubt. But I give you my word that it is true, Mr. Cranleigh. Not that her father is a Georgian though, he belongs to a higher race, the Lesghians, and the highest tribe of the Lesghians. All the others, such as Shamyl, are Mohammedans. Dariel's mother was the Princess Oria, the last representative of Tamara, the celebrated Queen of Georgia; and she was carried off from Tiflis--it is a most romantic story; I can't tell you a quarter of it. But there was some frightful tragedy--bless you, they are always having tragedies there--and the long and the short of it is, that Imar has incurred the blood-feud. You may be sure that he never ran away from it. He has the greatest contempt and loathing for all such horrible heathenism. After the capture of Shamyl all hope of resistance was over, for the Mohammedan tribes fell away, at once. Shamyl's chief hold over those fierce races had been his position as Imaum, which confers divine command over those who belong to Islam. Ah, he was a gallant Chieftain, but cruel sometimes, ah, yes, ah, yes!" "And your share in these adventures, Signor? You must have carried your life in your hands. It seems as if there can be no danger in the world, without some brave Englishman being in the thick of it." Jemmy Nickols threw his blouse open and showed a fine broad chest, which he patted. "You are right there," he said, "it generally happens so. Ah, I was an active fellow in those days, and afraid of nobody but the Devil. And you may be sure, there was plenty of Him there. Ah, yes, our nation is always on about its sailors; but to my mind the landsmen are every bit as good. However, it was business that took me there, and not any pleasure in hardship.