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RUTS ON MORLEY.

CHAP. XI.

BY JAMES B. STEPHENS.

Two days afterwards the "Capitole" steamed out of the harbour of Marseilles. The "Capitole" had steamed out of the harbour of Marseilles many times before, without any historical prestige or volcanic accompaniment; but now the event was more personally interesting to me than Thermopyla or Pompeii. I was a pas-ment, and in the gods of its worship? Of the senger on board of her, Italy-bound; and my fate was now very much dependent on the slenderest plank of her, that flung off the embrace of the eager waves.

We had what sailors, inconsiderate of fastidious organisms, call "dirty weather." All the morning long, Marseilles had been like a mere sketch of itself, no matter what the point of view. Now and again a few red umbrellas, moving in one direction and another, gave it the air of a theatrical phantasmagoria seen through a curtain of drizzle. With its great outlines dying into foggy distance, and all its pleasant details "swallowed up and lost" in the abstraction of rainy dreariness, the whole city was reduced to a mere elementary lesson of perspective. But ere we had been many minutes at sea, by slow degrees the curtain began to part asunder; and first of all in the far opening immensity the bleak mountains revealed their bleakness, and the rugged cliffs their defiant ruggedness; and then the clouds, gathering themselves together from beneath, hung voluminous between the topmost steeps and the nowglistening city; then again, as if suddenly dismissed by the word of a higher Power, broke into isolated thousands, that seemed to rush each to its own appointed home in the munitions of rocks.

And this was the Mediterranean - here mountain-crowned; there, isle-bejewelled; and away beyond, blue with boundless distance! Shall I tell you what I thought of, as the mountains grew more vast, the city more glistening, and the sea more widely blue? Of the immutability of those hills, on which had gazed, thousands of years ago, many a youngeyed" Greek, tenderly proud of, and delighting

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to nurture, the infant colony, so full of brilliant promise? Of the many stately galleys that had swept into that haven, with songs of joy, and responsive acclamations from awaiting multitudes? Of the many languages, whose echoes, now circling far-off in the infinite of space, still dated from this as their eternal centre ? Of the many changes in the character of its governmany storms that had driven trembling women to the chapel on the hill, to pray for their loved ones on the deep, and of the many dead that lay therein? Of the many bloody deeds that darken its history; and the terrible song that brightened with lurid triumph the last moments of godless martyrs ?

Yes; these and many such thoughts crowded upon me; but above all, and underneath all, was the joy with which I repeated to myself, again, and again, and again: "The sea is His, and He made it; the strength of the hills is His also."

The mountains were becoming more and more essentially geographical, the city but dimly distinguishable above the water line, and the Chateau d'If, of Monte Christo memory, a mere speck, utterly devoid of terror, before I sufficiently recovered myself from the trance of beauty and of praise into which I had fallen, to look around on my fellow-passengers. So many curious circumstances had happened to me since leaving England, so many curious coincidences leading to curious discoveries, that I could not but feel it not at all improbable that I might chance upon Herr Dulcken. I had now washed my hands of blood; but I did not the less regard it as a sacred mission to pursue the mystery into the midst of which I had so strangely been thrown. It was, therefore, with no inconsiderable anxiety, that without any ground of hope except the simple fact that Herr Dulcken had gone southward, I examined the faces of my fellow-travellers. But the result was disappointment. Some wore spectacles; some had shining, benevolent faces; some took snuff; some had shabby coats with large pockets; some, perchance, carried more watches

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than one; and one gentleman I certainly heard speak with a lisp: but in no one individual were these characteristics so blended as to constitute the personal identity of Herr Dulcken.

The day wore on; the blue deepened into purple; and the purple softened again into the calmer blue of night. The idea of sleep did not cross me; and that "brave o'er-hanging firmament" was infinitely preferable to a close berth below. Accordingly I walked the deck, joyously filling-in my new prospects with all sorts of leaning towers, cathedrals, baptistries, blue skies and "purple Appennine." Pleasant work it was, especially pleasant in the lightsome sense of deliverance from danger and great sin. There was now a light upon my path-the old home light; dim indeed, but, even in its dimness, brighter and better than any "light that ever was on land or sea." And now to all this was added the sweet feeling of security in regard to my sister. I had heard from my mother before leaving Paris. The crisis was over, and my home was again happy. I could look backward with thankfulness, and forward with hope. What more could the heart of man desire ?

How many times I measured the deck that night I know not. The glare from the engineroom frequently attracted my attention, and led me to compare the burning toil and self-consuming life below with the pure serenity of the upper air. Once I threw myself down on the deck, close to a grating which commanded a full view of the scene of action. Two men, all aglow, like fabled Cyclops, were busy at the time feeding the greedy furnace with enormous rations of coal. Sweating indeed, but not "grunting, under their weary load," their toil seemed a pleasure, to judge from the tunes they were humming, or rather jerking out in detachments; each detachment of minstrelsy marking a new effort of their Herculean frames. In one corner of the room, notwithstanding the sweltering heat, lay what appeared to be the form of a slender young man fast asleep. His face was turned from me; but I was much struck with the beauty of his long black hair, which lay in waving masses on his shoulders. I watched him for some time, wondering what could have tempted any one with so apparently delicate a form to choose such a sleeping-place. I was just about to rouse myself, and renew my deck promenade, when I saw him move his arm slowly from under his head, and then half turn himself as if by a sore effort. I waited to catch a glimpse of the face, but his hair had fallen over it, and I could not distinguish a single feature. I saw, however, what made my brain swim as in a hurried dream. In the act of turning, his loose shirt fell back from his neck; and there on his breast, flaming with the light of the furnace, lay a jewelled cross. It needed no nearer inspection to enable me to recognize the counterpart of what I had seen before.

I was at first half-annoyed at having my peace of mind again disturbed. The old whirl of perplexity renewed itself, sweeping round with

it the ghastly forms of all the horrible thoughts from which I had so recently been delivered. Was this a favouring Providence breaking up my way, or an Avenging Nemesis tracking my every step? Was it a gleam of hope, or a reminder of guilt? Was it a temptation sent to try if I was in earnest in my new obedience, and could at last resist the power of curiosity when it led into dubious paths; or was it a sign to follow on to the fulfilment of a mission, and the solution of a mystery which seemed fraught with great issues? ..... And then Stephanie ! Had I forgotten her? Ah, no! she was the earthly horizon of my new-born happiness, girdling it round and round. I did indeed look to a wider horizon, the far-off circuit of the Universe that is but the hollow of the Almightyhand, and there, and beyond it, the "delighted spirit," loved to range with reverence and godly fear. But, of my earthly prospects, the love of this woman was indeed the widest boundary; and I deemed it a holy one, sanctioned of heaven. Therefore I yielded, and waited, and watched, trembling with conflicting anxieties.

I was not the only one whose attention was attracted by the glitter of the jewels. First one Cyclop perceived it, feasted his two eyes on it, (here unfortunately mythology does not correspond), tapped his brother, pointed to the shining object, and then rubbed his own shining nose. The brother Cyclop raised his two black hands in unmitigated astonishment, looked at the first-mentioned, and appealed to his own nose in a similar manner for a solution of the mystery. In their perplexity, the furnace door was left open, whence issued a red glare that communicated to the whole scene an air of infernal grotesqueness. Cyclop A was evidently the ruling spirit. His next movement, almost simultaneously copied by Cyclop B, was to kneel down by the side of the sleeping form, and inspect more closely, but without touching, the object of their curiosity. The inspection lasted for several minutes, and was terminated almost as simultaneously as it had been begun. A then jumped up and shut the furnace door; upon which B, likewise on his feet, went through the form of securing it more firmly. They then sat down on the iron steps immediately beneath me, and gazed silently on the brilliant puzzle. "Do you think it is real?" at length hissed A. "What do you think?" hissed B.

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I think it is."

So do I."

Upon which they again put themselves in a devotional attitude before it, and mutually poked each other's ribs (A, of course, taking the initiative), with such evident intent to commit murder in perfect good humour, that I was just about to raise an alarm, when a slight motion on the part of the sleeper sent them both bolt upright-quite simultaneously this time-like two clowns in a "danse comique."

And now the features were revealed, and there below me lay, without. the shadow of a doubt, the original of the portrait I had seen at Winslow's, and the perfect translation into manhood

And the good soul patted him on the back, and half-pushed him up-stairs, doggedly resisting all the attempts of the young lad to express his thanks. B gave the finishing stroke to the pushing, and had him "sub Jove" in half a minute. In

of my own Stephanie. Beautiful-seraphically lie down without your cloak over you, or you'll beautiful, even in the lurid glare that struggled get chilled." fiercely through the closed door, and the undergrating, not Endymion, in the moonbeams, could have been more capable of winning admiration. I did not wonder that Winslow had loved him. The same beauty-softened but the same-had turned the current of my existence. And as yet his eyes were closed; but I pleased myself with thinking that, when he opened them, I should see the old beseeching loveliness that had charmed me in my lost one. How was I to speak to him, and what was I to tell him? Perchance, what I had to relate would only complicate his difficulties, and add new mazes to the labyrinth. Perchance my story might be but a bunch of Tantalus fruit, ripe only with disappointment.

I was at the old perchancing work again, and my brain was reeling as in days before; but I caught myself, and would no more of it. Another breath-it was a prayer this time-and I had made my resolution. These coincidences were clearly not sent in vain. It was assuredly my duty to follow them up.

But to relieve A and B from their painful attitude of uprightness, which certainly continued as long as I have taken to set down my mental recollections, their next move was to replace themselves on the iron steps, as if to ponder on the speediest and safest means of assassination. A short pause succeeded, when, to the honour of human nature in a hot engineroom, the following conversation actually took place:

A. "Did I not tell you he was something better than he professed to be ?"

B. "N'est-ce pas ?"

A. "Isn't it too bad of us to keep him down here, when we can do his work between us?" B. "N'est-ce pas ?"

A. "But don't you think we should button up his shirt first, in case he shouldn't like to know that we had seen this thing?"

B. "N'est-ce pas ?"

Upon the clear establishment of which pointed concurrence, A again kneeled down beside the sleeping figure, and cautiously performed the kind office he had proposed. B, supplementing his efforts, by way of fastening the button more securely, awoke the sleeper. He sprung up with a bound-his eyes full of anything but beseeching loveliness. His idea evidently was, that violent hands were being laid on his treasure; and accordingly he took his stand firmly in a corner, facing the innocent stokers with looks of defiant indignation that one would hardly have thought such soft lineaments capable of.

"Don't be alarmed," said A. "Don't be alarmed," said B. "We mean kindly," continued A; and Echo answered, "kindly.'

"Go up on deck, my friend, and take your sleep there. Your work has been too hard for you, and you are not used to this heat. We two will manage the work nicely between us.

Don't

Farewell A and B, Cyclopean brothers! the pressure of other thoughts I forgot to seek you out when we reached our destination; but across gulfs of time and space I can join hands with you, and beg a blessing on your honest heads! Toil on, brothers, in the fierce glow of your furnace, and may your work be sweeter to your kind hearts than the luxurious ease of wealthy selfishness! May the fire to which ye devote your lives become the altar of an accepted sacrifice, and the very burden of your labour be an earnest of reward! Toil on in patience; for ye shall yet see the place of your task in the long endeavour of humanity! Yet, look up now and again from the fiery glare-up to the blue infinitude of Peace; take courage therein, and remember that verily "there remaineth a rest."

As may be supposed, I was up and on the watch immediately. The suddenness of the awaking had evidently banished all idea of sleep from the mind of the young Greek, as, instead of laying himself on the deck according to his orders, he proceeded to pace it up and down with a brisk step. I placed myself against the bulwarks, by the companion-ladder leading down to the engine-room, that I might catch the expression of his face in the dim light as he passed and repassed. He seemed melancholy in the extreme, and yet nervously hoping against hope. Once and again, as he passed, his countenance seemed to brighten as if with the dawn of a hopeful project. The next glimpse of him would forcibly recall the face of Stephanie as I had seen her at our second meeting. I was puzzling myself as to preliminaries when the knot of perplexity was cut asunder by the young man himself stopping suddenly opposite me, and inquiring with a quivering voice if I spoke Italian. I told him I did, and desired to know if I could be of any service to him.

"I merely wished to ask," he said, "if you could tell me what I require to do in order to obtain a permission of residence for a short time at Pisa."

"I am going there also," I replied; “and as I shall have to get the same for myself, I shall be glad of your company. I have got full instructions as to all that sort of thing. I suppose you have got a passport?"

"Oh yes."

"Then you will have no difficulty in obtaining a permission of residence. Have you been in Pisa before?"

...

"No... that is to say. you will think it very strange if I tell you that I am going to Pisa to see if I have been there before." "Have you any relations in Pisa?" "I am not sure."

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"Ah! I see now!" he cried, with a laugh of delight. "He has shown you the portrait. And has he forgiven me, do you know, for my uncourteous leave-taking?”

And thereupon I gave him a true and particular account of what I had witnessed of Winslow's feelings in regard to his departure. He was lavish in his expressions of gratitude towards him, and in praise of his noble and generous character.

"And now," said I, when he had ceased, "I believe that I have much to tell you; but what I do tell you will very much depend on what you have to relate to me regarding yourself. I saw your letter to Mr. Winslow. I know from that that you are a mystery even to yourself. Yet I know that you are in search of something, and before I say anything further, you must tell me what it is; otherwise what I have to say may only issue in disappointment."

Will you put your hand in mine, sir, and say that you are really my friend?”

"There. Do you believe me?" "I do."

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"Then tell me what you seek."

Perhaps, sir, it is only a vain dream, but I think I once had a sister; and I shall seek | her all the world over until I find her-and if I find her not, I shall still seek her. And if it be only a dream, O it is sweeter than all certainty, and I should like to die in it. . . . . But this must seem to you very foolish, does it not?" "Far from it. What do you recollect of your sister?"

"Ah, sir, that is the difficulty. I can hardly separate my recollections from my fancies. My first distinct recollections begin after my recovery from a long illness, which I was afterwards told was a brain-fever. Before that time I seem to see my sister, shadowy and transparent as you can fancy a blessed child-angel; but the face remains with me still; and, as the years have rolled on, it has grown with my growth from childhood to almost womanhood. I have seen it watching over me in the dark nights, sometimes sorrowful, sometimes joyous, but always loving. It has been pale and sorrowful of late, and once I saw it weep. But the strangest thing of all is-I am persuaded that I saw my sister... "Where?"

"In Paris, just before I left.—But you scem

excited. Tell me, sir, do you know anything of my sister?"

"Be patient a little yet. Perhaps I do; but tell me of the circumstance you refer to."

"I spent much of my time in Paris in rambling about from one part of the city to another. If you knew the style of my previous life, you would not wonder at the extraordinary pleasure this gave me. On the day I refer to, I happened to step into the Station of the Chemin de Fer de Lyon. The crowd about to travel were just waiting for the opening of the bureau when I entered. I waited awhile till it was opened, and then amused myself by listening to the names of all the different destinations to which the various individuals were bound. At length all were served with tickets but one man, who first of all asked for two tickets for Lyons, and then, as if changing his mind, asked whether he could not book right on to Marseilles. I did not hear the reply. Two tickets were handed to him, and then I saw him join a young lady who was waiting for him at the door of the compartment in which the third-class passengers are assembled before being admitted to the platform. A policeman closed the door after them, and so hurriedly as to catch part of the lady's dress. On his re-opening it to release her, her face was turned towards me, and, as I live, it was the face that has been my guardian angel all my life through. I rushed forward at once, but the door was re-closed with a slam before I could attract her attention, and, as 1 had no ticket to show, I was refused admission. I entreated earnestly to be allowed to enter, if only for a minute. I said I was sure it was a long-lost sister of whom I had caught a momentary glance. At first I was told that it could not be permitted; then gradually the man softened, and said he would open, but bade me remember that he would keep his eye on me, so that I need not attempt anything in the way of pocket-picking. It was too late, however. The train was just starting as I gained the platform. I saw the man who accompanied her, looking out of the window of one of the carriages, but nothing further."

"What was this man like?"

"A short, thick-set, ill-looking man, with a great bristly beard. I grieve to think of that tender girl travelling in such company."

"And how did you get here?"

"Mr. Winslow told you about my departure from Paris. I had but little money-certainly far too little to admit of my travelling by rail. I knew Mr. Winslow would have helped me if I had asked him; but how could I crave money from one who had already been so kind, and for a cause which might after all be but a vain imagination? I could not bear, too, the thought that had I never again been able to find him and to return it to him, he might think of me through life as a mean impostor. I resolved, therefore, to walk to Marseilles, though with only the shadow of a hope that this would be of any use towards the accomplishment of my object. It was weary work truly. I generally

sworn to myself to repay if I live. I arrived at Marseilles a few days ago, and immediately set about making such inquiry as I could by means of Italian. I met with many rebuffs, many shrugs of the shoulders, many suspicious looks. I never before felt what a vast ocean a city is. I found myself a mere speck on its waves. After two or three days-long days of disappointment-I gave up all hopes."

"Then what has led you to take this further journey?"

this is the cathedral, and this the baptistry.' 'And what is this?' I asked, pointing to a model of a beautiful little chapel. That is the Santa Maria della Spina.'

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walked about forty miles a day, purchasing a little bread and fruit when I happened to pass through a town or village, and sleeping at night by the road side. I was frequently stopped and interrogated by gens d'armes, but I generally found my plain story compassionately received, and have been sent on with a blessing by more than one fierce official from whom I would have expected rougher treatment. On arriving, however, at Nuits-sous-Ravière, I was suddenly arrested and carried before the Prefect of Police. I sat for some time in a cell adjoining his bureau, "I used to make a point of going into all the tremblingly anxious as to my impending fate, shops whose signs bore Italian names. I genefearing imprisonment much less on account of rally found people there with whom I could its dreariness than of the utter destruction of converse. The day before yesterday I hapmy project which it would certainly bring about. pened to pass the shop of a worker in Two gens d'armes stood over me with such an alabaster, over the door of which I read the air of defiant exultation that I am certain they name Bellarossa. I entered it, and the first mistook me for some great criminal. What thing which caught my attention was a model followed convinced me still more of this. A of a leaning tower, which, somehow or other, bell sounded over my head, upon which the two seemed to identify itself with some previous gens d'armes seizing hold of me, almost dragged recollection. I at once asked if it was modelled me to the door of the bureau, and then thrust from a real tower, and where it was. 'It is the me into the presence of a very benevolent look-leaning tower of Pisa,' said the sculptor, and ing old gentleman, who, on seeing me, to my extreme astonishment, threw himself back on his chair, and burst into a long fit of laughter, in which two or three clerks, when he had found it possible to say a few words to them, joined most heartily. When the Prefect had regained control over himself, he rose, and taking up a photograph which lay on the table, held it up before the gens d'armes with one hand, and pointed to me with the other; whereupon the whole company shrugged their shoulders, the gens d'armes in particular-which latter, with a dismal salute and a lugubrious smile, then retired from the room. The Prefect advanced to me, patted me on the back, and said something in French, of which the only part I understood was the consoling tone. I stammered out a few words in Italian, upon hearing which, he instantly established one of the clerks as interpreter. He asked me a great many questions about myself, and, as I had hitherto found the plain truth my best helper, I told him all I could remember. He seemed greatly interested. He provided me with a comfortable lodging for the night, and made me promise to remain in it till he would send for me the next day. I did so, and early next forenoon a servant came and conducted me to his house, where I found the Prefect, his wife, and the interpreting clerk waiting for me. He then made me go over the same story, particularly inquiring into all my hardships on the way from Paris. I again answered all his questions, thanked him as warmly as I could for his kindness, and begged to be allowed to resume my journey. I suppose the fatigue must have been telling on my appearance, as he insisted that it was impossible I could reach Marseilles on foot in such a state of weakness, and, in spite of my obstinate resistance, forced upon me as much money as would defray the expenses by rail. His wife joined her urgent offers to his, and I at last accepted their kindness, but only as a loan, which I have

"Instantly clouds of shadowy thoughts seemed to me to assume substance and reality. I had seen these things before. 'Do you know if this little chapel stands on the margin of a river?' I enquired again. It does.' ...... I felt (and still feel) certain that Pisa is connected with my earliest life; and with that conviction strongly rooted in my mind, I was seized with the strong desire to proceed thither at once. I made all inquiry about the route, and finding that I had not enough money to take me thither, I offered to work my passage on board this vessel. I was at first refused, there being no necessity for an additional hand on deck; but it was at last agreed that I might assist in the engine-room. However, the kind fellows who are there insist upon taking my work on themselves, and have forced me on deck. I have now told you what you wish to know. I might tell you of my previous life, but I am dying with impatience to hear if you have anything to say of my sister."

I spoke to him of Stephanie till the dawn came out of the sea. With such a subject, and with so eager a listener, the soft-winged hours floated away unheeded. I told him of the strange circumstances under which I had met her, of her yearnings after a remembered brother, of the face that visited her and grew with her, of her tenderness of heart and of her great beauty. I told him- I could not conceal it-how she and I loved one another, how our souls were now so intertwined that they could no more be separated, and how I now rejoiced in him as in a brother. All this while he was lying at my feet, looking up into my face, riveted and entranced, as a saint may be in the first ravishment of glory. The proximity of several of our fellowtravellers, however, who now began to emerge

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