hat it was not mine, but had been given to me,
in America, to be delivered in Europe. He immediately put it down, and
proceeded with the search.

"During these operations, several women, some from curiosity, others
from pity, had gathered around us. Among the latter class, was one, who,
from her dress, beauty, and demeanor, could be no other than the wife
of the Agha. She was dressed in a faded, but once magnificent
robe, and trowsers of silk, and wore upon her head a massive and
elaborately-carved ornament of silver. She moved among the fierce and
blood-thirsty savages, with an air of mingled scorn and anxiety,
reproaching them with the shame of the transaction, and pleading
earnestly that our lives and property be spared. She warned them, also,
that our injuries would inevitably be visited upon their heads.

"Having finished his search, the Agha, with the old men of the tribe,
gathered on a ledge of rocks, just behind us, and consulted long and
earnestly. We sat down and dined with what appetite we could muster."

After the robbers had come to their decision, a second search of the
baggage took place, which Mr. Bacon thus describes:

"The pressure of greater and more important dangers had made me quite
resigned to such petty losses as these, and I watched, with much
amusement, the appropriation of unusual articles. A black silk cravat
which had seen much service in New Haven drawing-rooms, was twisted
about the suspicious-looking head of an uncommonly dirty boy. A pair of
heavy riding-boots were transferred to the shoulders of a youth who bore
the 'gallows mark' upon his features with unmistakable distinctness. A
satin vest of Mr. Marsh's was circulating through the crowd, on the
person of a dirty child, who boasted no other wealth but a ragged shirt
and a green pomegranate. I looked at the youngster with a smile of
congratulation; but he turned upon his heel and strutted gravely away,
his new garment trailing on the ground at every step.

"Having lightened our baggage considerably at this haul, they proceeded
to search our persons. It had been our first movement, on being placed
by ourselves, to transfer our watches, together with a locket,--all
priceless memorials of distant or departed friends--from the waistcoat
to the pantaloons fob; a pocket compass attached to my watchguard, was
cared for; likewise, the little note-book in which I was accustomed to
place the map of each day's journey. We knew not how soon w