serve we had partially dried ourselves by a miserable fire fed with
wet wood; in fact, everything was wet--our plaids were soaked, and were
useless as coverlets.

We had agreed to keep one candle burning, with the further precaution
that we should sleep and tie through the night; for it was a
cut-throat-looking place, and the countenance of the ordinary Servian is
not reassuring. It fell to my lot to have the first watch, and I lay
awake staring at the roof, no great height above us. Its dirt-stained
rafters were lit up by the candle, and I soon became aware that the
mainbody of the insects was performing a strategic movement highly
creditable to the attacking party--they dropped down upon us from the
beams! I will not pursue the subject farther, but as long as the candle
burned I did not sleep a wink. I suppose I must have dozed off towards
morning, for H---- roused me from a state of semi-unconsciousness, and
"up we got and shook our lugs."

The first thing I saw on pushing open the door was the steaming carcass
of a sheep hung just outside, with a pool of blood on the very
threshold! In many places in Eastern Europe they have the disgusting
habit of slaughtering the animals in the middle of the street.

As soon as we had swallowed a cup of hot coffee, which is always good in
this part of the world, we lost no time in clearing out of the wretched
hovel where we had passed the night. On every side there were traces of
last night's tempest--trees uprooted and lying across the road, walls
blown down, and watercourses overflowing. It came to my knowledge later
that we got part of the same storm that had fallen with such devastating
fury on Buda-Pest just twenty-four hours earlier.[3]

It is a fact worth noting that this storm affected a large area of
Europe, travelling north-west to south-east. A friend writing from the
neighbourhood of Dresden made mention of a severe storm on the 24th of
June; it broke upon Buda on the 26th, reaching us down in Servia on the
27th.

[Footnote 2: Hungary and the Lower Danube, by Professor Hull, F.R.S., in
Dublin University Magazine, March 1874.]

[Footnote 3: Extract of a private letter, dated Buda-Pest, June 28th,
from Mr Landor Crosse, which appeared in the 'Daily News,' July 6, 1875:
"We have had one of the most dreadful storms that has happened here in
the memory of man. I must tell you that on Saturday evening I was taking
my coffee and cigar in the beautiful gardens of the Isl