Year: 1875

On the topmost tower Of Swigetll
Castle stands an old man. with his
face turned wistfIIlly toward the
west, where, through the passes OF
the great Hungarian mountains, that
hang like a cloud on the distant sky.
the setting sun streams over the
great plain, making the winding
stream of the Thesis glow like fire.


His face is wrinkled, his hair
snow white, and the crutch on which
he leans has been his constant com
panion since he was crippled by a
wound twenty years ago: but his eye
is still the keenest for many Il mile
around, and he strains it now IN Il
long, lingering gaze, as if it could
pierce even the shadowy mountains
and then withdraws it with a low
groan: mot yet-not yet!


What is the old man watching for
then? and why does he groan so
deeply? A glance below will suffice
to answer that. This plain was Il
lovely sight year ago, with its
broad meadows, and quaint little
thatched cottages, and clustering
vines; but now, as far as the eye can
reach. the fair land is torn, and
trampled, and black with fire.


Around the castle itself you may
see masses of broken stone lying
heaped on every side, with here and
there crushed head or arm sticking
ont from among them; and further
on the air is dark with the smoke of
countless camp-iires, around which
swarthy men in gay robes and white
turbans are grouped by the hundred
and by the thousand.


The Turks are on Christian soil
once more; and their Grand Nizier,
Kara Mustapha, has swept onward
against Vienna, with hundred
thousand men ut his back, leaving a
detachment to reduce the only for
tress which has resisted his first on
set.


Count Karolyi, the lord of the cas-
tie, is with the besieged garrison of
Vienna; but his wife and child, with
all his treasures, are still here.


Well may the Turks fight stoutly,
with such plumber in view; and
stoutly they hare fought. The outer
walls are down, and half the garri-
son lie dead beneath them; only the
innermost fortress holds its own.


Sixteen days has old Hubert
watched on the topmost tower, from
sunrise to sunset, listening to the
roar of the fight below, and catching
glimpses of Turk and Christian
graphing amid clouds of dust. Be
side lies the huge horn which he is to
sound at the first glimpse of Chris
tian lances coming cleaning through
the shadows OF the western noun
tains; but hitherto lie has watched
in vain. just before the enemy
closed round, and cut them off from
all things, there did indeed come
word that Jan SObieski, the Wizard
King" of Poland, is on his march to
fall upon the Turks before Vienna;
but who knows if he will win? and
even if he does, may he not come too
late?


Old Hubert turns his eyes from
the distant mountains to the rampant
just below him. on which are three
figures. child and two women. The
younger of the two is dressed like a
servant, apparently the nurse of the
little girl, who sits perched on her
knee, watching with delight the curl
ing flames of the huge brasier over
which the elder lady is STOPPING.
Her dress is rich and costly, and her
features still bear traces of beauty
which even ''the Land of Fair Wo-
men, can not match; but her face
is pale and haggard, and her eyes are
red and weary with long watching.


Since the siege began, Countess
Irma has slept only by snatches,
seizing mouthful of food when she
could; and it is grim work that she
is busted with now.


That shining fluid that SINNERS in
the great iron pan on the brazier is
melted lead, which many time and
oft, when all her men were in the
thick of the fray below, she has,
with her own hand, poured kissing
hot among the swarming hosts of the
enemy.


The fame leaps and dances, and
the little girl, pleased with the bright
CLEAN of the liqnid which is to