All was at last accomplished; and after taking leave of our pretty Servian companion, who laughed heartily at my pressing invitation to her to share our imprisonment; we followed the train of waggons; the rear of the party being brought up by an Austrian soldier, armed with a loaded musket, and a fixed bayonet. We were, however, in no mood to yield to gloomy ideas or feelings. We had a blue sky above us, a fine turf beneath our feet, and the prospect of another half hour of comparative liberty; and we were straggling gaily about the plain, laughing and speculating on our approaching imprisonment, when we were called to order by the guard; and compelled to keep to the high road, lest we should contaminate the grass and thistles among which we were wandering. Before we reached the quarantaine-ground, we passed the grave-yard destined to receive those who die of plague during their incarceration. It was closely fenced; and rendered still more gloomy by a tall crucifix, painted red, and supporting a most revolting effigy of Our Lord. On ringing a bell the great gates of the establishment were flung “hospitably” back, and we were requested to allow the waggons to enter before us, lest we should contaminate the oxen by our contact; and, after passing through a couple of walled yards, surrounded by warehouses for receiving merchandize, we entered a third enclosure wherein we were met by the governor and surgeon; who, keeping at a respectful distance, invited us to enter a dark, whitewashed, iron-grated cell, in order to have our passports examined. A wooden lattice separated us from our new hosts; and the peasant who had conducted us from the river side, stood in front of a small opening made for the purpose, and held at arm’s length the papers which were demanded. Much bowing and scraping ensued between M. le Directeur, the foreign Noblemen, and the Hungarian Chevalier; and we had reason to congratulate ourselves on their companionship, as it produced a visible increase of courtesy on the part of the local authorities: a courtesy which did not, however, exempt us from the “locks, bolts, and bars” of the Lazaretto. As I was only the second lady who had been unfortunate enough to come under his keeping, the Governor very politely resolved to commence his arrangements by providing me with as good a cell as he had then vacant—not that he called the space into which he was about to consign me, a _cachot_—by no means—the word “cell” being somewhat grating, another term has been invented; and the dens of the Lazaretto of Orsova are designated _colleves_, which signifies—nothing.