CHAPTER XII.

Back at Mehadia—­Troubles about a carriage—­An unexpected night on the road—­Return to Karansebes—­On horseback through the Iron Gate Pass—­Varhely, the ancient capital of Dacia—­Roman remains—­Beauty of the Hatszeg Valley.

After a week of such weather as we had had in the mountains, a water-tight roof over one’s head was in itself a luxury; so we were not inclined to quarrel with our quarters at the hotel at Mehadia, had they been even less good than they were.

F——­ and I wished the next day to get back to Karansebes; he had left his carriage, and I my Servian horse.  A Hungarian gentleman, one of the late expedition, said he would arrange to have a vorspann, if we would join him, as he also wanted to go there.  This well-understood plan insures to the traveller relays of horses, and we were only too glad to acquiesce in the prospect of making the journey pleasantly and quickly.

The driver who was to take us the first stage came in and asked for a florin to get some oats for his horses.  Very foolishly I gave him the money, nothing doubting; and off he went to spend it on slivovitz, the result being that he was soon drunk and incapable.  If we had realised the fact at once it might have been better, but we waited and waited, not knowing for a long time what had happened.  This upset all our vorspann arrangements, and to our great disgust the best part of the day was wasted in seeking another vehicle and horses to take us to Karansebes.  At last we succeeded in obtaining a lumbering sort of covered conveyance, whose speed we doubted from the first; but the owner, who was to drive us, declared he would get us to our journey’s end in an incredibly short space of time.

We took care to give no pourboire in advance; but what with the inevitable dilatoriness of the people down in these parts, it was after seven o’clock before we left the Hercules-Bad, and we had fifty miles to drive.

Not even the ten hours of undisturbed consecutive repose in the downy bed at the Mehadia hotel had made up the deficiency of sleep during the foregoing week, and drowsiness overcame us.  I think we must have had a couple of hours of monotonous jog-trot on the fairly level road when I fell asleep, and I suppose my companions did the same.

I must have slept long and profoundly, for when I woke, pulling myself together with some difficulty, having slept in the form of a doubled-up zigzag, I found it was daylight.  I was surprised that we were not moving; I rubbed my eyes, and looked out at the back of the cart, and there I saw a round tower on a slight eminence, encircled by a belt of fir-wood, the very counterpart of a pretty bit of scenery I had noticed in the twilight.  I looked again, and sure enough it was just the tower itself and no other, and the very same belt of wood.  The explanation was not far to seek.  I was the first to wake up in our “fast coach.”  Every mortal soul—­and there were five of us, besides the four horses—­had, it seems, gone to sleep much about the same time that I did.  The magic sleep of eld must have fallen upon us.  The simple fact was, we had passed the night in the middle of the highroad.  Was there ever anything so ridiculous?