during my imprisonment had grown very long, only differed from his by being of a slightly lighter colour. “Oh! good God! is it possible,” thought I, with a thrill of joy, “that this is liberty at last?” Drawing the enormous white turban over my eyes, I devoutly bowed my head, and with silent footsteps and the rosary in my hand, as if repeating a prayer, I slowly left the prison, and crossed the courtyard. The sentinels at the porches and the gates of the mosque were walking silently backwards and forwards with their muskets; but as they did not recognise me I escaped detention. For some time the noise of the street confused me; I quite lost my senses. But I quickly recovered myself, and hastening my steps, soon reached the sea-shore. I signalled to one of the boatmen, took my place in the first little boat that approached me, and, bowing still lower, motioned to the boatman to row me to one of the nearest ships. It was a foreign one, as I had already remarked from my windows. I saw now that it was a French schooner, quite ready to sail, as I could tell by her flag. CHAPTER IV. _I SEE THE PRINCESS._ A dark, handsome, spirited Frenchman, the commanding officer of the schooner, soon showed me that he was a worthy subject of the nation to which he belonged. Seeing in me a Russian sailor, he looked at me, was silent a moment, and then whispered, “Are you Konsov?” “What makes you think so?” I asked, not without some trepidation. “Oh! how glad I should be if it were so!” he answered, “for we all pity brave Konsov very much, and constantly ask after him. I should be very happy to be of any service to him.” There was nothing to be done; and I concluded it was better to reveal myself. The captain was overjoyed; he conducted me to his own cabin, and at once promised to pay the boatman; whom, however, for safety’s sake, he first ordered to be hoisted on deck with the boat. The sails were then unfurled, and the anchor weighed. It was night when the schooner set sail, and by morning we had left Stamboul far behind us. The mulla must have slept soundly and long, for we were not pursued. My boatman, who was sent back from one of the villages we passed, having received all that had been promised him, and the mulla’s clothes in which I had escaped into the bargain, was only too glad to hold his tongue. The French officers gave me proper clothing, and generously furnished me with a sum of money, to which all had subscribed. They politely offered to put me on board the first Russian vessel we should meet in the Italian seas. Meanwhile, I heard from the captain that the mysterious Russian Princess was no longer in Venice, but was now at Ragusa, past which town we should have to sail. I asked to be put on shore, but the French officers did all they could to dissuade me, pointing out the risk I should run in being again so near the Turks. This counsel had no effect on me; I insisted on landing.