For several hours he walked, or rather stumbled along, in the darkness, wandering this way or that, as blind fancy directed, and haunted by the reflection that Bruin might return with one of his _confrères_, eager to dine off a too venturesome tourist. He had given himself up as hopelessly lost, when he came to a spot where the foliage above his head suddenly lifted, revealing a sky of the darkest blue set with glittering stars. This sky extending in a broad band far to the left and far to the right proclaimed the welcome fact that he had hit upon the road again. He looked at his watch, and found that it was close upon midnight. That infernal Bruin had delayed his journey by six hours. Even now he had no idea which way to turn for Sebenico, till his eyes, roaming over as much of the sky as was contained within his circle of vision, caught the sign of Ursa Major. "Poetic justice!" he smiled. "Misled by the earthly bear, guided by the heavenly." Knowing that Sebenico lay to the south, he accordingly set his face in that direction with intent, on reaching the first milestone, to ascertain from his ordnance-map the position of the nearest village or inn. He stepped forward briskly, and keeping a sharp lookout soon came upon a milestone glimmering white upon one side of the road. Kneeling down he struck a match--like the revolver, a recent invention in 1845--and by the faint glow learned that he was thirty miles from Zara. Taking out his map, together with the "Tourist's Manual for Dalmatia," he proceeded to make a study of both by the brief and unsatisfactory illuminations afforded by a succession of lucifers. "After to-night," he muttered, "I shall always carry a small lantern with me; likewise a compass." Now while Paul was kneeling there, intent upon book and map, he received the greatest surprise of his life. "Which way does Zara lie?" The question was spoken in Italian--the common language of Dalmatia--by a voice so soft and musical that the like had never been heard by Paul. When he had risen to his feet he stood mute with astonishment, a passage from "Christabel" floating through his mind,-- "I guess 't was frightful there to see A lady so richly clad as she-- Beautiful exceedingly!"