the spot at
full speed.

Lancey ran after him, but soon stopped. He might as well have chased a
mountain hare. We both, however, followed the track he had pursued,
and, catching our horses, passed into the village.

"It's of no use to follow, sir," said Lancey, "we can't tell which way
'e's gone."

I felt that pursuit would indeed be useless, and pulled up with the
intention of searching among the ruins of the village for some one who
might have escaped the carnage, and could give me information.

The sights that met our eyes everywhere were indeed terrible. But I
pass over the sickening details with the simple remark, that no ordinary
imagination could conceive the deeds of torture and brutality of which
these Turkish irregulars had been guilty. We searched carefully, but
for a long time could find no one.

Cattle were straying ownerless about the place, while dogs and pigs were
devouring the murdered inhabitants. Thinking it probable that some of
the people might have taken refuge in the church, we went to it.
Passing from the broad glare of day into the darkened porch, I stumbled
over an object on the ground. It was the corpse of a young woman with
the head nearly hacked off, the clothes torn, and the body half burnt.
But this was as nothing to the scene inside. About two hundred
villagers--chiefly women, children, aged, and sick--had sought refuge
there, and been slaughtered indiscriminately. We found the dead and
dying piled together in suffocating heaps. Little children were
crawling about looking for their mothers, wounded mothers were
struggling to move the ghastly heaps to find their little ones. Many of
these latter were scarce recognisable, owing to the fearful sword-cuts
on their heads and faces. I observed in one corner an old man whose
thin white hair was draggled with blood. He was struggling in the vain
endeavour to release himself from a heap of dead bodies that had either
fallen or been thrown upon him.

We hastened to his assistance. After freeing him, I gave him a little
brandy from my flask. He seemed very grateful, and, on recovering a
little, told us, with many a sigh and pause for breath, that the village
had been sacked by Turkish irregular troops, Circassians, who, after
carrying off a large number of young girls, returned to the village, and
slaughtered all who had not already fled to the woods for refuge.

While the old man was telling the mournful tale I observed a litt