a handful of horsemen just behind him. He stopped just long enough to lift his wife up into his saddle, and then, without uttering a word, continued his desperate flight along the bank of the stream. The Turks were , following close behind, but suddenly, in the very narrowest part of the ravine, the old monk appeared in front of them, and their horses reared with fright at his apparition.
     "Halt!" he cried out. "What is it that you want here?"
     "We want Raresch!, A hundred gold pieces are offered for his head. Show us where he is hiding or you are a dead man!"
     The monk nodded his bead, and turning, led the way up a narrow path between the rocks, and with great trunks of trees projecting here and there. He went on and on, and the path grew steeper and steeper, until at last they came to an impenetrable wood. For a long time the horsemen followed him, and their poor beasts had to climb like cats. At last, however, they found they could go no farther; there was no way out of the dense wood, and in a perfect fury they turned on the old monk. They tore his clothes, nailed his hands and feet to a fallen tree, and then went away leaving him thus to his fate. The old man's lips turned blue with anguish, but he murmured:—
     "I am nailed down, although not on the cross. And if it be not for the sake of humanity, it is at any rate for the sake of my country!"
     He then closed his eyes, and without a murmur resigned himself to this slow, agonizing death. The fugitives meanwhile had taken a narrow path which led to the Forest of Brotschéni. When once they were there their road was very difficult, and it was necessary to know the fords well in order to cross the river so many times. If, however, they succeeded in doing this the enemy would completely lose track of them.
     The Prince's horse was beginning to give way under his double burden, and only answered to the spurs by a quiver like a spasm passing through its frame.
     "If your Highness will take my horse," said one of the men to the Princess, "I will dismount."
     "But what about you?"
     "We must not lose a moment, or it ma be too late!" was the only answer, and lifting the Princess quickly from her husband's arms the man placed her on his own horse and then disappeared quickly amongst the trees without waiting for any thanks. On, on they went, leaving the banks of the Bistritza and ascending the steep slope where at the present time a monastery commemorates the flight of Petru Raresch.
     From afar the two rocky summits looked like the towers of a church. There was a cavern in the rock where anyone could very well hide, for it was surrounded by a dense wood, and on the trees which had fallen new shoots had sprung up, and were now giants in their turn. At almost every step the thick, mossy carpet gave way, and the horse's hoofs would sink in the rotten wood of a dead tree, which would crumble to pieces on the soil.
     Suddenly, just in front of them, they heard, a terrible crackling sound and heavy breathing,