“Yes, I have.” “Well, look with this glass to the right; I fancy I see the land about seven or eight miles off.” “Yes,” said I; “the fog is clearing off on that side, and I believe it is the land.” “In that case,” said the captain, “we are nearly thirty miles out of our way. Though it is very provoking, we may thank our stars the weather was more favourable than the night before.” It was now nearly five A.M., and the dew was falling very fast. Feeling chilly, I went below, and reposed for a short time upon the sofa. Being thirty miles out of our course gave me time for a good rest before entering the Bosphorus; upon making which I was, at my request, called up. As the sun rose, the fog cleared off, though slowly; the captain made out a landmark, and found that we were, as he had before said, about thirty miles out of our course. The _London_ was fitted up in a princely style; she had two funnels, and was very long. She rolled very much during the voyage, though the sea was not very rough; her being short of ballast was probably the cause. At all events, it made Miss Nightingale very ill. However, our troubles were now at an end; we were slowly entering the mouth of the Bosphorus, amidst a shower of pearls, which gathered in millions upon the rigging and the deck. This was a great relief to us, after the grey fog and thick fine rain--besides being unaware of our exact position, and floating at hazard on the sea; though, thanks to the caution and watchfulness of the captain, we had been in no danger. It was like the opening of a fairy scene; the clouds were slowly disappearing, disclosing to our fatigued and overstrained eyesight the unique panorama of the Bosphorus. Its strong current appeared to overpower the steam, and we seemed to have come to a stand-still. The thousands who have returned from the arid and devastated soil of the Crimea, under its burning sun, must have enjoyed the refreshing sight I have here attempted to describe. Even Miss Nightingale had enjoyed it from her cabin. She had been removed to the beautiful saloon upon deck, where she had a good view of the enchanting panorama, and appeared almost recovered from her fatiguing voyage; which proves how near pain is allied to pleasure, and _vice versâ_, particularly as refers to sea-sickness. Miss Nightingale requested to see me. I went and inquired after her health, which, she said, had improved since we entered the river. She then referred to various things she wished to have in her extra-diet kitchen, and to numerous other matters of importance connected with the hospitals. I requested her to keep her mind quiet, and to depend upon me. “No doubt, mademoiselle,” said I, “I shall not have the pleasure of seeing you for some time, and I would certainly advise you not to go out till you are quite restored to health: I will, therefore, send you a journal of my daily proceedings by Mr. or Mrs. Bracebridge, whom I, of course, shall see every day.”