evening sky of its blushing tints, and seemed to revel in the
richness of its coloring.--It was at this calm and quiet hour that a
caique, propelled by a dozen oarsmen, shot out from the shore of the
Seraglio Point, and swept round at once with its prow turned towards
the open sea. In the stern at two dark, uncouth looking Turks,
between whom was a young man who seemed to be under restraint, and
in whom the reader would have recognized Aphiz, the Sultan's
prisoner.

It was plain that the caique was bound on some errand of more than
ordinary interest, and many eyes from the shore were regarding it
curiously, as did also the various boat crews that met it on the
water.

Still it held on its way steadily, propelled by the long, regular
stroke of the oarsmen over the half mile of blue water that
separates Europe and Asia at this point, sweeping as it went by,
lovely villages, mosques, minarets, and the dark cemeteries that
line the shores, until, a certain point having been gained, the
oarsmen at a signal from those in the stern, rested from their
labors, while the boat still glided on from the impetus it had
received. In a moment more, Aphiz was completely covered with a
large, stout canvas bag or sack, which was secured about him and
tied up. At one extremity was attached a heavy shot, and when these
preparations were completed, he was cast into the sea, sinking as
quickly from sight as a stone might have done. A few bubbles rose to
the surface where the sack had gone down, and all was over. The bows
of the caique were instantly turned towards the city, and the men
gave way as carelessly as though nothing uncommon had transpired.