only a wounded Turk met us, with terribly inflamed eyes. He had heard approaching footsteps, and had probably wanted to meet us, but he was only able to stand by supporting himself against the wall, and mutter a few words. between his teeth; he could not articulate. In the panic of the last few days before the surrender of the town, and also afterwards, the Turks forgot and abandoned their sick. and wounded; the Turkish doctors and surgeons all dispersed, and had to be caught and forcibly made to enter the hospitals. But it was almost a hopeless task, for this mass of brave men were beyond human aid.

84. The Spy.

"Come and see them leading away a spy," said General Skobeleff (father of my friend, Michael Skobeleff), to me. We seated ourselves on a bench opposite a house entered by Colonel P. of the staff, and an aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, who had just arrived from headquarters. Before the porch were posted soldiers with fixed bayonets, two in front and two on either side. The examination and interrogatories lasted some time, and half-an-hour must have elasped before we saw the figure of a tall, dark man on the threshold. He was handsomely dressed, and wore his cap a little on one side. At the sight of the soldiers he turned somewhat paler, stopped, took a deep breath, and thrusting his hands into his pockets began descending the steps without moving his eyes from the soldiers.

85. The Adjutant.

Si jeune et si décoré.

86. The Road of the War Prisoners.

The road from Plevna to the Danube for a distance of thirty to forty miles was literally strewn with the bodies of

frozen wounded Turks. The frost set in so suddenly, and with such severity, that the brave defenders of Plevna in their stiff frozen overcoats were too weak to resist it, and by ones and twos fell on the road, and were frozen to death. With the assistance of a Cossack companion I tried to raise some of these fallen and set them on their feet, but they fell down again, so completely enfeebled were they, though evidently anxious to follow their comrades. Sitting and lying in the snow they moved hands and feet as though they longed to be moving, but were powerless. The next day their movements became less, and they lay on the snow by the hundred, prostrate on their backs, moving lips and fingers as they gradually and slowly froze to death. (Having heard that this kind of death was one of the least painful, I clo ely examined the faces of the corpses lying in every ima inable position along the road, and convinced myself that every face bore the impress of deep suffering. This form of death then is evidently also not painless.) I recollect two Turks in particular-an old man, and quite a youth, seated by the side of the road, warming themselves by a dimin tive fire of a few sticks. When I stopped my horse near them in the morning, the youth tried to speak to me, but burst in to tears, and I could only understand, "Oh, Effendi, Effendi!" I answered, pointing to heaven, "Allah, Allah!" The older man was silent, and looked gloomily down. On returning to Plevna in the evening I sought out the place where I had left them; the little fire had long burnt itself out, the young Turk lay prostrate and apparently dead, while his companion sat motionless beside him bent almost double. He, too, wa probably also dead.

The first ew days there was nobody to remove the dead and dying, so that passing carts and gun-carriages crushed their bodies in o the snow and rendered it impossible to extricate them wi.hout spoiling the road.

87. A Resting-place of Prisoners.

I remember a party of eight to ten thousand p:isoners at Plevna overtaken by a snow-storm. They extended along the high road for a great distance and sat closely huddled together, with heads bent down, and from all this mass of human beings there rose a dull moaning from thousands of voices as they slowly and in measure repeated,“ Allah ! Allah! Allah!" The snow covered them, the wind blew through their chilled forms; no fire, no shelter, no bread. When the word of command to start was given, I saw some of the older, venerable Turks, probably fathers of families, crying like children, and imploring the escort to let them go. as far as the town to dry their clothes, warm themselves, and rest; but this was strictly forbidden, as there were such numbers of them, and only one answer was returned to all their supplications, "Forward, forward!"

88. The Conquered.

A regiment of Chasseurs of the Guard having been ordered to make a feigned attack on the Turkish fortress of Telisch, instead of manoeuvring, by mistake attacked in earnest. Half were immediately killed or wounded, the remainder retiring. The Turks left their fortifications, and throwing themselves upon the dead and wounded, plundering and stripping them naked, even mutilating them in the most barbarous fashion. Two days afterwards, when the Russians captured the fortress, they collected the bodies of their unfortunate comrades, counted, and buried them all in one large grave. The priest performed the burial service, and offered up prayers for all those who had lain down their lives for their Fatherland.

89. Russian Types.

(a) Blacksmith, native of Vladimir, 59 years of age. (b) His wife, 50 years of age.

(c) Coppersmith, native of Smolensk, 62 years of age, has all his life made cockades.

(d) Girl of district near Mosko, 15 years of age. (e) Dvornik (gate-keeper), 40 years of age, native of

Riazan.

(ƒ) Retired valet de chambre, 70 years of age, has been 50 years in service, and looks upon his masters with feelings not unmixed with irony.

90. The Kreml, from the opposite side of the River Moskva. This is one of the most curious sights in existence. I do not know any other city in the world that would present more original and even more striking views.

95. Mendicant Friar of the Order of Nakhsb-bendi at

the doors of a Mosque in Turkestan.

96. The Kreml of Moscow in Winter.

97. The same.

98. The Moscow Cathedrals and the river Moskva (in the spring).