mental seclusion as he had hitherto maintained.
Luncheon despatched, the game already killed
was sent back in the boat to the yacht; Pietro
ordered to be at the landing-place at five; and
we all started off again inland.

We returned up the side of the wood, and,
on reaching the extremity, turned off to the
left, when our progress was apparently stopped
by a small stream. Silvertop began looking
about for a bridge, while the Major, without
pausing a moment, tucked the skirts of his
sporting-coat under his arms to keep his
pockets dry, and holding his gun over his
head, waded through the stream, which was
about up to his hips, and gave a satisfied
stamp or two on the opposite bank. We took
his hint. I followed quickly enough, rather
pleased than otherwise with a fresh incident
of the day's proceedings, and Silvertop was
not less ready, though he evidently cast a look
of pity on his shooting costume; whereat the
Major's eye twinkled a little.

The stream we had just passed, seemed to
be the threshold of more swampy ground than
we had yet encountered, and presently we
found ourselves walking along, very
unconcernedly, through a tract of land on which
the water was often half-way up to our knees.
Our minds were now again directed to the
snipe, and so successfully, that the Major
himself spoke of the sport as "good," and his
companions looked upon it as something very
far beyond the power of an adjective to
qualify. This tract passed, and the afternoon
passing away, we determined on beating back
towards the shore, but this time in a most
extended range. The Major was to beat the
copses which lay under the hills to the right;
I was to go back through the wood where we
found woodcocks in the morning; Silvertop
was to beat off to the left, and have another
look after the wild ducks. The creek on
which he saw ducks in the morning did not
run very far up; but beyond it, quite unknown
to him, there was a stream that ran down to
the sea; this stream he reached, and began
to follow, ignorant of the fact that he was
separated from his friends. He wandered on,
and for some reason or other best known to
himself, the Guardiano followed him, though
still at the usual respectful distance.
Presently, to Silvertop's great astonishment, a
gaunt miserable figure appeared from under
the bank, and regarded him with a fixed and
stolid gaze; it was the first human being any
of us had seen in the country that day. His
appearance was abrupt enough and singular;
on his head was a miserable fez, or Turkish
cap, which once might have been red, but
then neutral tint; there was no trace of hair
upon his temples, and his whole apparel
appeared to consist of a dirty yellow capote. He
was a peasant, probably come out of some
miserable hut on the hill or in the valley to
catch fish, or, having heard the guns, to obtain
the Albanian's great hope in life, a little
powder. Silvertop was addressed by the
stranger in a whining voice, of which one
word was evidently "Baronte;" the Englishman
said "Ah!" and bowed politely, having
some idea about national peculiarities of
salutation, but the Albanian went on with his
whine about "Baronte."

The situation was utterly incapable of
explanation, till the Guardiano arrived, having
quickened his course on hearing voices, and
he vouchsafed a solution of the difficulty by
remarking to Silvertop, "Want powder, sir."
The Englishman was perfectly ready to bestow
this new kind of alms, and was going towards
the object of it, when he was stopped by the
Guardiano, who took his powder-flask, and
said a few words to the Albanian. The latter
approached a little way, took off his cap, put
it down on the ground, and retired some
yards. The Guardiano opened the powder-
flask, and shook a portion of its contents into
the cap, but carefully avoided touching it,
because being of woollen manufacture it is
among the plague-branded articles of quarantine.
The powder-flask was returned to its
owner, and the Albanian, taking up his cap,
went off with much apparent gratitude. The
Guardiano, having done what was wanted,
struck off, unobserved, by another path, and
Silvertop wandered on till he reached an open
space, which ran, uninterrupted by trees,
quite across the valley. He could see me, about
half a mile to his left, plodding away, and
about a mile beyond him he could discern
the occasional smoke of the Major's gun,
which gave evidence of his having found
something to amuse him in the hill-side
shrubberies. Either of us might have incurred the
penalties of quarantine fifty times over, for all
the Guardiano could tell, but the Albanians
are scarce, and also repulsive; at any rate
the plague has never yet reached Corfu by
such means. Silvertop, having tried somewhat
of a cross-country movement, was
stopped by the creek already mentioned,
which had again narrowed in breadth, but of
which the waters were wofully muddy. He
followed the bank some way, but found he
was approaching the lagoon; and so,
encouraged by the Major's late example in
fording, he selected an apparently favourable
spot, and stepped cautiously in. Two steps
took him half across the creek; he took the
third, and found himself floundering in a
treacherous hole, with the water up to his
chest, and the mud splashed into his eyes.
Luckily there were overhanging bushes on
the bank, and by their aid he dragged himself
out. There was no help for it; his gun had
escaped wetting, and he came out safe: the
only thing that suffered was his shooting
dress. So he trudged on, and made for the
rendezvous. He arrived there first of the
party, and saw the dingey coming off from the
yacht, while his companions were fast
approaching from the inland covers.

The evening was as beautiful in its calm as
the morning had been in its brightness. The