There are two descriptions of persons to whom I would particularly recommend an avoidance of the Quarantaine at Orsova—The _ennuyé_ and the _bon vivant_. For the first there is no refuge save sleep, and the few doggrel attempts at poetry which may be partially traced through the whitewash; the outpourings of an impatient spirit weary of its thrall; with the occasional society of the “keeper,” who is as cold and as impracticable as his own keys. The very books of which the wanderer has made his travelling companions; and some of which would bear a second perusal, at all events in a quarantaine cell, are carried off and sealed up, as though every volume were redolent of high treason; and he is left to his own resources as ruthlessly as if he were indeed “the last man;” and that he had done with the world, and the world with him. To the second I need only hint that the _restaurant_ is a Government monopoly, where you are provided for at a fixed sum per day; and fed upon whatever it may please the Comptroller of the Kitchen to serve up. Nor can you procure any wine save the sour and unpalatable _vin du pays_, however liberally you may be disposed to pay for it. Those travellers are fortunate who, like ourselves, can meet the captivity of quarantaine with pleasant companions, light hearts, and unfailing spirits; finding food for mirth in their very miseries; and forgetting the annoyance of present detention in the anticipation of future freedom. CHAPTER XXXII. The Last Day of Captivity—Quarantaine Enclosure—Baths of Mahadia—Landscape Scenery—Peasantry of Hungary—Their Costume—Trajan’s Road—Hungarian Village—The Mountain Pass—The Baths—A Disappointment—The Health-Inventory—Inland Journey—New Road. The last day of our captivity was the most tedious portion of the whole, for the prospect of speedy emancipation kept us in a constant state of irritation. Our luggage was collected and arranged with a haste which by no means added to its comfort or convenience, and which only left us an additional hour of unoccupied restlessness; while the servants were urged to a continual commotion that robbed us even of the tranquillity which might have made our prison-house somewhat more endurable.