y the mischievous winds now full upon the
unhappy fugitives, or now descended with seemingly crushing force
on the Servians in their dancing canoes. Then came vivid lightning,
brilliant and instant glances of electricity, disclosing the forests
and hills for a moment, then seeming by their quick departure to
render the obscurity more painful than before. The fiery darts were
hurled by dozens upon the devoted trees, and the tall and graceful
stems were bent like reeds before the rushing of the blast. Cold swept
through the vale, and shadows seemed to follow it. Such contrast
with the luminous, lovely semi-tropical afternoon, in the dreamy
restfulness of which man and beast seemed settling into lethargy, was
crushing. It pained and disturbed the spirit. Master Josef, who never
lost an occasion to cross himself and to do a few turns on a little
rosary of amber beads, came and went in a kind of dazed mood while the
storm was at its height. Just as a blow was struck among the hills
which seemed to make the earth quiver to its centre, the varlet
approached and modestly inquired if the "honorable society"--myself
and chance companions--would visit that very afternoon the famous
chapel in which the crown of Hungary lies buried. I glanced curiously
at him, thinking that possibly the thunder had addled his brain. "Oh,
the honorable society may walk in sunshine all the way to the chapel
at five o'clock," he said with an encouraging grin. "These Danube
storms come and go as quickly as a Tsigane from a hen-roost. See! the
thunder has stopped its howling, and there is not a wink of lightning.
Even the raindrops are so few that one may almost walk between them."

[Illustration: NICOPOLIS.]

I returned to the balcony from which the storm had driven me, and was
gratified by the sight of the mountain-side studded with pearls, which
a faint glow in the sky was gently touching. The Danube roared and
foamed with malicious glee as the poor Servians were still whirled
about on the water. But presently, through the deep gorges and along
the sombre stream and over the vineyards, the rocks and the roofs of
humble cottages, stole a warm breeze, followed by dazzling sunlight,
which returned in mad haste to atone for the displeasure of the wind
and rain. In a few moments the refugees were again afield, spreading
their drenched garments on the wooden railings, and stalking about in
a condition narrowly approaching nakedness. A gypsy four feet high,