view
behind the low promontories of the European shore. Now and then a big
ferry-boat puffs into sight, churning the tranquil waters into foam with
her huge paddles; a dozen sailing craft are in view, from Lord
Mavourneen's smart yawl to the outlandishly rigged Turkish schooner, her
masts raking forward like the antlers of a stag at bay, and spreading a
motley collection of lateen-sails, stay-sails, square top-sails, and
vast spinnakers rigged out with booms and sprits, which it would puzzle
a northern sailor to name. Far to the right, towards Therapia, glimmer
the brilliant uniforms and the long bright oars of an ambassador's
twelve-oared caique, returning from an official visit at the palace; and
near the shore are loitering half a dozen _barcas_,--commodious
row-boats, with awnings and cushioned seats,--on the lookout for a fare.

It is the month of June, and the afternoon air is warm and hazy upon the
land, though a gentle northerly breeze is on the water, just enough to
fill the sails of Lord Mavourneen's little yacht, so that by making many
short tacks he may beat up to the mouth of the Black Sea before sunset.
But his excellency the British ambassador is in no hurry; he would go on
tacking in his little yawl to all eternity of nautical time, with vast
satisfaction, rather than be bored and worried and harrowed by the
predestinating servants of Allah, at the palace of his majesty the
commander of the faithful. Even Fate, the universal Kismet,
procrastinates in Turkey, and Lord Mavourneen's special mission is to
out-procrastinate the procrastinator. For the present the little yawl is
an important factor in his operations, and as he stands in his rough
blue clothes, looking up through his single eyeglass at the bellying
canvas, a gentle smile upon his strongly marked face betrays
considerable satisfaction. Lord Mavourneen is a very successful man, and
his smile and his yacht have been elements of no small importance in his
success. They characterize him historically, like the tear which always
trembles under the left eyelid of Prince Bismarck, like the gray
overcoat of Bonaparte, the black tights and gloomy looks of Hamlet the
Dane, or Richelieu's kitten. Lord Mavourneen is a man of action, but he
can wait. When he came to Constantinople the Turks thought they could
keep him waiting, but they have discovered that they are more generally
kept waiting themselves, while his excellency is up the Bosphorus,
beating abou