We raised a handsome subscription for him in one night at our mess table, and procured him a passage in a French cavalry transport; so he left us, with lips that quivered as he said "farewell," and a heart that yearned with gratitude. He said that one day we should hear of him when Schamyl and his host marched towards the shores of the Sea of Azov.
Whether Osman reached his own wild and war-like country we have yet to learn; for since the day on which the "Napoleon III." steamed away past the New Mole fort, with her deck crowded by Zouaves, and our Circassian among them waving his red cap in adieu to us, we have heard no more of him; for the tidings of the Caucasian strife that reach Europe are meagre, doubtful, and vague, as those that came from the Holy Land of old.
Slingsby and I were complimented in garrison orders for the manner in which we had accomplished our little diplomatic trip to Seville, and were praised for the dangers we had encountered and escaped.
Our adventures, with those of Osman Rioni, infected the mess with a desire to "spin yarns," and the result was, that from being the most matter-of-fact fellows in the world, every one of "Ours" had a romantic story to tell.
"Now, gentlemen," said the colonel, one evening when I had brought my narrative down to the happy epoch of our embarkation on board the steamer at San Lucar de Barameda, "how much more pleasant and entertaining has all this been to us than the usual absurd chit-chat which reigns supreme at a mess table; the everlasting quiz about the curl of Ramble's mustachios; the banter about Bob's whiskers, or Slingsby's bay mare, and how Shafton craned at the hedge in the steeple-chase; the odds on the Derby; the last new singer; the latest ballet importation, with the shape of her ancles, and so forth; the last novel or polka, or belle, or piece of humbug; now is it not so?"
Hereupon all those whose constant topics the colonel had just enumerated, warmly assented that it was, and that the narrative had proved immensely interesting.
"Deuced instructive, too!" yawned the most stupid fellow at the table.
"Might spin three volumes out of it, Ramble. 'Men and Manners in Andalusia!'" said another.
"No banter now, gentlemen!" said the colonel; "pass the bottles, Shafton. Mr. Vice-President, another allowance of wine; I have a proposal to make. We have been--that is, the most of us--have been in all the quarters of the globe, and have seen life in all its phases and varieties. Therefore, I beg to move that each of us who has a story to tell should forthwith tell it for the amusement of the mess, under the penalty of a dozen of wine."